Forbidden Love's Legacy
by GreenField
Summary: Sequel to my other story,'An Affair of the Heart',following the story of George Boleyn and Elizabeth Smythe's eldest illegitimate daughter Alice,as she struggles to survive in the court of her cousin Queen Elizabeth 1st. Please read and review! Cover image by Achen089.
1. Prologue

A/N: As I have mentioned in the blurb, this is a sequel to my previous fanfiction, An Affair of the Heart. I would recommend that you read that first as to fully understand this story, but there will be mentions and flashbacks to the previous story if you do not want to read it. I'm really looking forward to it and I know a few other people who are too, so please read and review and make me happy!! The story will always be told by the point of view of Alice, the bastard daughter of George Boleyn and his mistress Elizabeth Smythe.

I first met my cousin Elizabeth when she was thirteen.

She was still bastardised, back then, once a Princess and now a Lady. The fall of her mother, my Aunt Anne Boleyn, had lead to her new title, her poorer lifestyle. Until Queen Catherine Parr had come along three years previously, her father had not even wanted to see her. He didn't want to be reminded of Anne, reminded of her bewitching smile and sweet sensuality. He didn't want to see the fierce woman that he still grieved over in their daughter's eyes.

I am the secret daughter of George Boleyn, killed alongside his sister and five other innocent men in the middle of May 1536. My Mother cannot bear to think of that year, to think of the deaths of her lover and her friends, and neither can her cousin, my Aunt Aurora. I must try to forget that I ever had a father, so that I cannot miss him, but my memories will not let me remain ignorant of him, every thought of my childhood has him within it. I remember him playing with my sister and I in the gardens of Hever, I remember how adoringly he looked at Mother, I remember seeing him brush away her hair and lay tender kisses on her lips and neck, I remember him singing me to sleep with his songs and poems. He had such a sweet voice. It haunts my every dream.

But back to that day, in the summer of 1546. Elizabeth had retired to Hatfield for the summer with some ladies, as scandalous rumours had begun to circulate about her and Thomas Seymour, her little half-brother's dearest Uncle. My Mother and Aurora had managed to persuade her to give them an audience.

Aurora's husband Thomas stayed at our modest home with their children, Eric and Elena, and also my younger siblings, Margaret and George. But Mother agreed to let me come. She needed proof of her relationship with Father, and that was what I was. She had a letter from him written to his niece, and Aurora had a letter written from Elizabeth's mother, as well as her pearl 'B' necklace, which I remember her wearing with fondness.

We travelled to Hatfield two days after the letter of permission had arrived. I wore my best gown, sugarplum pink with an ivory embroidered bodice. Mother was anxious, and worried, playing with the locket that she wore permanently around her neck, containing a portrait of her and my father. Aurora held her hand.

"Will she believe us?" I asked Mother, equally nervous.

"You couldn't look more like your father and Aunt, and we have letters and the necklace too. I should think she must believe us" Aurora answered instead. I nodded, my face pale. I was often told how much I looked like my father. I had his dark, intelligent eyes, his wild dark curls, his pearly pale skin. I sometimes wrote poetry or composed music just as he had done. I was told that I laughed like him too, easily amused. Margaret looked more like Mother, though she too had those dark eyes, and George was the pure image of our Father, from his dark curly head to his toes.

I was surprised at how regal Elizabeth was. I, too, had been mature at that age, but only because the suffering of my parents and Aunt had made me that way. I supposed that it had done the same to her, that the pain had broken her and made her strong, as it had done to me, though not to my Mother, whose delicate heart had never repaired.

She did not act like a young girl of thirteen; she acted like a woman, like a seductress. Her hard, dark eyes matched mine. Her flaming red hair was more gingery than copper, like Mothers', somehow. She wore a dress in the Tudor colours of white and green that emphasised her small, yet well formed body. Her full crimson lips curved into the most curious, wonderful smile when she saw us.

"Good day" she said sweetly. We took turns kissing her hand, then stood awkwardly before her.

"You said you had news of my mother and uncle. Please explain" her voice was high, imperious – I spotted Aurora's eyes watering, and I knew why – this young girl was Anne through and through, eyes to voice, posture to shape.

"Dear Lady, I must confess to you something of much importance. I have a letter here that your Uncle George gave to me during his last days in the Tower of London. He told me to give it to you when you were of an age to understand its contents" Mother explained, holding out the letter. Elizabeth took it with reverence, a smile still playing on her lips.

"Why would my Uncle have given this letter to you?" she looked at Mother closely, "You were with him every time I saw him. I think I remember you"

Mother smiled, "I was his mistress. We were madly in love all of our lives, and I love him still, but we were both forced into marriages with other people, so I became his..." Mother trailed off, flushing, "His whore instead"

"Ah" Elizabeth smiled. She carefully broke the seal on the letter and began to read. I saw her dark eyes widen, then water, then finally flicker to Mother and me.

"Are you one of his daughters?" she asked me. I nodded.

"Yes, I am Alice, your cousin" I replied awkwardly. Elizabeth beamed.

"And who is the other daughter?"

"My sister is called Margaret, and I also have a brother named George that my Mother bore a few months after my father had been killed" I explained. She turned to Mother.

"You were carrying his child the day he died?" she asked, incredulous, forlorn. Mother nodded. Elizabeth gave her a sympathetic glance.

"And Mistress Aurora, isn't it? What do you have for me?"

"I have a letter that your mother wrote for you in her last days in the Tower, and her necklace. My cousin Elizabeth here was a dear friend to her, as was I. We were there at your birth and there at your christening, and we were always by your dear mother, God bless her soul" Aurora told her. She stepped forward elegantly and handed Elizabeth the letter and the necklace. I watched Elizabeth run the pearls through her fingers, trace the outline of the thick golden 'B' for Boleyn, touch the pearl teardrops dangling from the letter. Then she broke the seal on the parchment and began to read.

She read slower this time, her eyes darkening at every line, a small triumphant smile sometimes curving her lips. Tears rolled down her cheeks, so silent and sincere that I felt my own eyes begin to moisten, and saw my Mother and Aurora already weeping quietely, clinging to one another. I stepped closer to them and Mother gripped my hand hard, smiling at me determinedly. I smiled back.

"In both these letters I am told to remember you both, and your children, as you are all family to me. I am asked to favour you, once I am Queen" her scarlet lips beamed, full of glory, "They say I will be a great Queen, so I shall be one, for my Mother and Uncle"

We all curtsied at this, and she laughed, the bell-like, sweet laugh that her Mother had often produced.

"I won't forget you" she added. She held out her hand to me imperiously. I took it and she surprised me with an embrace.

"We'll be friends" she told me firmly, "You can write to me. And your brother and sister – I want to get to know my cousins"

I smiled back at her, "Of course we will" I agreed, "I can tell you more about your Mother"

"Oh yes" she agreed, "Yes, I'd like that"

A/N: As is often the case with Prologues, this is just a set up chapter and the story will get better!! Please please please review!!


	2. The Beginning in the End

**A/N: I couldn't wait to write this next chapter, though I'm pretty sure it'll make me sad. And if you've read An Affair of the Heart, it might make you sad too. Please review!**

_1558_

"Is she any better?" my younger sister Margaret asks me anxiously. Sometimes I still think of her as a child, and sometimes I lie to her just to keep her safe and happy. This is a time when I know I shouldn't do that.

"Worse" I reply, chewing on my lip. Her still childish face crumples and her lips tremble.

"Oh" she mumbles in return, scared.

I step back into my Mother's chamber with a meal for her that I know she won't eat. She caught a fever two days ago, and it hasn't yet broken. I overheard the physician telling my Aunt Aurora that it is unlikely that she will survive.

I don't know what I will do without my Mother. We have been together, caring for my younger siblings, weeping over my Father, for so long now. I am a woman now, I know that, but to have lost both parents will torture me. And Margaret. And George...well, Mother is the only parent he has ever had.

"Alice" says Mother brightly. Whenever she sees me, she smiles. I smile feebly back and sit beside her, taking her hand. Aunt Aurora looks at me anxiously over Mother's head.

"She's been talking to your Father again" she tells me awkwardly. I stare at Mother. Losing her is looming closer now, and it feels awful.

"Well, of course I have!" Mother exclaims, glaring at Aurora, "I shan't just sit here and ignore him, shall I?"

"Um..." I hesitate, "No, no, of course not"

"Why do you look at me like that?" Mother snaps, "Do you not see him?"

"No, Mother, I don't" I tell her gently. Her face pales, the colour draining from her cheeks and lips.

"Oh dear. Am I going mad, Aurora?" Mother asks, turning, as always, to her cousin and best friend. Aurora smiles falsely at her, though her eyes tear up.

"No, sweetheart, you are perfectly sane" Aurora says, gripping Mother's hand. She goes to say more, but Mother turns to me.

"Where is Margaret?" she asks.

"Outside, doing her embroidery"

Mother smiles wryly, "You cannot hide her from everything, Alice. Will you fetch her for me?"

I nod and go to the door. Margaret is weeping, being held by our distant cousins Eric and Elena, Aurora's children, who are looking worriedly at each other over my sister's copper-coloured curls.

Elena lets go of her when she spots me and helps her to stand. Eric lingers by her side, and even on this awful day, that makes me feel a little lighter. I wonder when Margaret will realise how much he adores her.

"Mother wants to see you" I explain to my sister, "Try to look at least a little cheerful, won't you?"

Margaret gulps and nods, fiddling pointlessly with her gown and hair, pinching colour into her cheeks and beaming suddenly. I nod in assent and wrap my arm around her as we walk.

Mother looks pleased to us both back again, and we perch beside her. Her gaze is fixed far away from us, on something that we can't see. She laughs suddenly, a bitter, mirthless laugh that ends in a hacking cough.

"What amuses you so?" asks Aurora, pushing back her dark hair as though seeing Mother better will help her to understand.

"George, of course. No-one ever amused me as he did. So sweet and silly, clumsy sometimes too, with his poems mimicking the rest of the court and his impressions of the King Henry" Mother laughs again, wilder this time.

"Where is George?" she asks suddenly. I exchange a look with Margaret, who is almost as pale as Mother.

"He's dead, a long time ago now, Bess" says Aurora, stricken. Mother rolls her eyes, the expressive blue eyes, the innocent blue eyes, the colour of the ocean, that Father loved so much.

"Not that George. My son George. Your brother, Alice, Margaret, remember?" she sighs. I see something in her of how she was when I was very young,, when she was Father's mistress and a youthful Mother. In all these years she has not changed, determined to meet Father in the same state that she was when he left, determined to see him in Heaven and have him think that she is still beautiful. Her hair is still russet and copper, shining and curly. Her eyes still glitter with sarcasm and wit and sweetness, she has somehow kept her figure all these years and has not a line on her face. She is still beautiful and I am sure Father will still love and want her. He always did.

They were so tender and sweet with each other when I saw them at Hever. They watched the sun rise and set while they ate their breakfast and dinner. They danced around the fields with us day in day out. They sang us to sleep and taught us how to write poetry. They spent every night together, thankfully in a room far away from where I slept. They could not go a few minutes without holding hands or embracing or kissing, and spent constant time gazing at each other with adoration.

"Well, Alice, where is he? My son?" Mother demands. I can't help a tiny giggle escaping me and Margaret is the same. Mother watches us as we laugh, confusion in her eyes.

"What is it? What is he doing?" she asks, almost laughing herself.

"Can you not guess?" I return with a roll of my dark eyes, "He's off whoring again"

Mother bursts into laughter, sending her into another fit of coughing.

"Oh dear. He does remind me of his Father sometimes. Not at a brothel?"

"Oh no, he's a lot less shameless than that" says Margaret, joining in with a smirk, "He's here at home with one of the maids"

"Oh, God save him!" Mother coughs, still laughing. All at once her face becomes solemn.

"Will you fetch him for me?" she pleads, " I need him to run an errand"

"He shan't like that" I say with a grin, "What do you want him to do?"

"I would like him to fetch the Priest from Saint Anne's church to administer the last rites" Mother replies seriously. At once the three of us explode into protests. Mother shakes her hand and holds up her hands to indicate silence.

"No, I will have no discussions. You cannot pretend to me that I am well – I know very well that I am dying, and I will not leave this world until I have repented for my sins"

"But...you cannot die" whispers Margaret, "We need you"

"You have Aurora and Thomas to care for you. Anyway, death holds no sadness for me. In death, although I will not be with you, I may watch over you and guide you from afar. And I will be with your Father again, with my George, and with my dear friends Anne and Mary, and with all our friends from court. So you see, I am not afraid. Now, please, fetch George and tell him what he must do, Alice"

I swallow audibly, squeeze my Mother's hand and leave the room. I hover outside George's room for a few moments, feeling too embarrassed to enter, but eventually just pushing the door open with my eyes half closed.

Thankfully both George and the maid, Emily, are fully clothed and just kissing, which is something I can deal with.

"Alice!" George explodes, "What do you want?!"

"Mother wants you to fetch the Priest from Saint Anne's parish church. She needs him to administer the last rites" I reply haughtily. George's face pales. Emily looks anxiously at him, her small calloused hands fluttering uselessly, fussily, over him, until he pushes her away and storms out of the room with me on his heels.

"She can't be dying" he says fiercely, swinging his cape upon his shoulders and pulling on his hat and riding boots. I gulp.

"I think she is, George" I whisper, "I hate it as much as you, but that doesn't stop it being true"

"You rhymed" says George with a feeble smile, "I could write a poem using that, it was quite good"

I laugh, "Oh hush. Now go on, quickly"

We all sit around the bed, candles lit in the dusk, as the Priest administers the right. Mother confesses things that I would not consider sins, not if you know the story behind them. She confesses to sins of jealousy, to lust, to adultery with the love her life, to being a disobedient wife to her husband. In the midst of this, George appears in the doorway, hopping from foot to foot, looking eager and excited. I glare at him to tell him to hush, and he just glares straight back. When the Priest asks her for possessions for her children, she demands that Aurora take of her portrait locket that Father commissioned for her, which she does with shaking hands before handing it to me. She slips off the ring that belonged to my Father, Aunt Anne, and her, slipping it onto Margaret's finger. Then she hands a thick wad of parchment to George.

"My will" she tells him. She thanks the Priest, pays him a little money, then turns to George with a terrible cough.

"Why are you so excited?" she asks.

"We can go to court –" he begins, but his voice is drowned out by Mother's violent coughs. Her whole body shudders with the impact of them. Margaret starts to cry. I cling to Mother's hand.

"Hold on, you must hear this, Mother, it will make you so happy – " George continues in a desperate, vain attempt to keep Mother with us. Mother grips one last time onto my hand, tightly, her nails digging into me, and her eyes flutter closed. Her breathing halts.

My Mother is dead.

Margaret falls onto me and I hold her tightly, weeping. As I stare at my Mother, just for a moment I think that I see a part of her leaving the unmoving body, I see a smile flicker over the dead lips, I feel her grip loosen on mine, and know that she is with my Father now. George and Aurora are crying too. Thomas enters, pale but resolute, and holds Aurora tightly in his arms. Eric and Elena follow his example.

"What did the letter say?" Aurora asks, her voice weak and empty.

"Elizabeth is Queen" George whispers in reply as silent tears roll down his cheeks, "She wants all of us at court, Eric and Elena too"

"Oh God" I gasp, crying hysterically now, "And Mother never even knew that her dearest friends child is Queen"

**A/N: I must admit, this really upset me to write. I'm going to miss Elizabeth so much. When you write about someone for this long they become like you child. That might just be me being weird though. Please review, and sorry, the chapter ended up longer than I planned it to.**


	3. Arriving at Court

A/N: Sorry it's been so long, I really wanted to update, but I've been so busy, plus all my exams are coming up. Still, next week is half term, so you might get some more out of me then! Thank you for your reviews on the last two chapters, they were very much appreciated! Xx

"It is such a shame that we could not bury her with George" Aunt Aurora sighs, leaning on her husband's shoulder. I nod in forlorn agreement. It shall be strange visiting my father's grave this year without my mother by our side. We visit him every year on the anniversary of his death, then stay in an inn in town for two nights until it is the anniversary of Aunt Anne's death, when we visit her also. My Mother is the only person who knows exactly where they are buried.

We are on our way back home from the Saint Anne's parish church. When we arrive in the small courtyard surrounding our home the few servants are in a flurry of excitement, rushing here and there with trunks and clothing for our journey and stay at court.

Margaret and Elena are excited about going to court – they are both beautiful girls and enviable dancers to boot, meaning that they will certainly be greatly admired. George is looking forward to furthering himself, using his position as one of the Queen's cousins to do so, and he is definitely looking forward to all the women that will be mooning over him and his verses. I think that Eric just wants to win Margaret's love whilst we are at court –he has made sheep's eyes at her for as long as I can remember.

And I? I am just eager to see where my Mother and Father once spent their days, to meet Elizabeth again after our long correspondence, to be able to be free about my Protestant beliefs. And there is a small part of me that hopes to fall in love as deeply and irrevocably as they did.

When I go to the chamber that Margaret and I now share alone (Mother's bed lies empty in the centre of the space), my trunk is overflowing with new gowns, as is Margaret's. She is placing jewels into a smaller trunk, though she has paused over a gilt bracelet, too tiny now to fit on her wrist. She sees me watching her and gives me a rueful smile, putting the bracelet gently into the box.

"I cannot bear to get rid of it, though it no longer fits me" she sighs, "I remember that Father and Mother bought it for me for my third birthday. Just before Father died"

I embrace her, "Don't get rid of it" I agree firmly. I move away from her, fingering the portrait locket of my parents that hangs around my neck. I look at the small pile of things I have yet to pack. One of these is a beautifully carved wooden box, which I found a few days ago in the bottom of Mother's cupboard. She has used sealing wax to attach a piece of parchment to the top of the box. The parchment is yellowed and old, reading only the words, "Elizabeth and George" in Mother's beautiful italic writing. I have not had the heart to open it yet.

I turn guiltily away from the box, which I have told no-one about, and back to Margaret.

"Well, then!" I say brightly, faking a smile, "Do you have enough dresses?"

Margaret grins, "Well...a girl can always use more dresses!"

We leave just two days later – Margaret, George, Eric, Elena and myself. We travel by carriage in the rain, which puts paid to George's idea of visiting several brothels during breaks in our journey – he refuses to get his new doublet wet.

When we arrive we are met by Elizabeth's old governess, Katherine Ashley. I met her once before, all those years ago when I first saw Elizabeth, and I am very admiring of her. She has cared for Elizabeth better than anyone else could have done.

She seems to recognise me too – she beams in a friendly way, emphasising her dimples and ruddy cheeks.

"Good Morrow to all of you" she says with a smile, "Her Majesty is just in a meeting of the council, but she assures me that you are all very important to her, and so will attend to you as soon as she can. She suggests that I shows you your lodgings before you are formally introduced to her" Kat Ashley explains, ushering us along.

Margaret, Elena and I are to share a group of small chambers that have connecting doors leading into one another. We beam and thank Kat profusely, leaving our trunks safely in our rooms rather than carrying them around.

George and Eric will be in an entirely separate corridor, that is only a short walk away from ours. They have small, separate rooms next door to one another, which pleases them greatly.

Finally it is time for us to see Elizabeth. She is seated on her throne, much changed from when I last saw her, though she looks tired and exhausted this time as she did all those years ago. But she is very beautiful, so reminiscent of Aunt Anne that it pains me to look at her. Despite her flaming red hair her skin is pale and sallow, her eyes big and black, her body slim and elegant.

She smiles to see us.

"How lovely it is that you all came! Though I was very grieved to hear of your Mother, who I regarded so highly. But it is so nice to see the people that I have corresponded with for so long" she steps towards us, still beaming, and pulls me into a fierce embrace. She smells sweetly of roses and cinnamon.

"Alice, how well I remember you!" she exclaims, "Are you well?"

"As well as can be expected, your Majesty" I reply. She laughs loudly, Anne's laugh coming from her body.

"None of that in private, any of you – I am your cousin, so you may call me Elizabeth! And you are definitely dear Margaret!" Elizabeth embraces Margaret too, "You look like your Mother. And – oh my!"

She goes even paler, her dark eyes fixed on my brother, "Goodness, for a moment I thought that I was looking at my Uncle George once again! How wonderful it is to meet you, George"

She greets Eric and Elena with just the same amount of glee and fondness.

"I have a surprise for you!" she announces suddenly, "I am sure you will recognise your childhood friends and our dear cousins"

Catherine and Henry Carey appear from the shadows, smiling nervously. I cry out in delight and run toward Catherine, who was my best friend as a child. We laugh and hug each other, almost in tears. I kiss Henry's smooth cheek, laughing joyfully. Margaret, Eric and Elena have soon joined me. George hovers behind, confused, as he never met the Carey siblings, but soon he is talking with Henry as if they too are old friends.

Catherine is grinning still as she pulls forward a man with dark brown hair and eyes, who to me looks very dashing and handsome. I resist the impulse that I must have inherited from my Mother to wink at him.

"This is my husband, Sir Francis Knollys. I am Catherine Knollys now. Our daughter Lettice is here also, but she was too...ah...nervous to meet you" Catherine explains. Her husband Francis kisses my cheeks and I smile at him, trying to forget that I ever thought he was handsome.

"Good day to you, Sir Francis" I say sweetly. Elizabeth laughs loudly – It is almost like hearing the ghost of Aunt Anne behind me.

"We are all together at last!" she announces brightly, "All that is left of our family"

A/N: Not too sure about this chapter, please review!


	4. New Faces in Old Places

**A/N: READ THIS, IT'S IMPORTANT! Right, now that I have your attention – I might do that a lot more often – I need to tell you that I'm going to add little extra bits into this story with George and Elizabeth meeting again and watching over them, which will be in italics. Sorry to anyone who does not believe in Heaven or God – I am not writing these pieces for a religious argument, I'm writing them because I miss Bess and George. Right, well, enjoy the chapter, and please review!**

"Who is he?" I ask my cousin Catherine softly, gesturing to a dark haired man whose eyes are following Elizabeth everywhere she goes. They have danced together several times this very evening, and there is no denying the chemistry between them. Elizabeth darts a quick look over to the man as she talks with her new advisor and friend William Cecil. Her dark eyes sparkle at him before she looks quickly away.

"That is Robert Dudley. He was Elizabeth's friend when they were children" Catherine explains, her voice equally low, "She calls him Robin"

"Robin?" I muse, "I think I remember her writing of him during our correspondence. She was always very fond of him"

"She still is" Catherine confides, looking anxiously over at our cousin the Queen, "She shall ruin her reputation, which is not particularly solid as it is. Anyone can see she adores him – she has already had a telling off from the council, which she has obviously ignored"

"She will be like her father, thinking that she can do anything now that she is Queen" I sigh. I have noticed these past few days that Elizabeth is extremely strong willed and determined, much like both of her parents.

Catherine scowls, her blue eyes burning like ice fire, "She shan't be like him. He was a vile murderer, and Elizabeth would never hurt anyone. If anything, she is like Aunt Anne"

I nod in agreement, taken aback by Catherine's reaction. Still, she too was part of the fall of my father and Aunt, and I cannot blame her for her loathing of Henry the eighth.

A flirtatious redheaded girl is dancing between the crowds, dragging a man by the hand. She looks like Elizabeth, though a little younger. Her eyes, big and blue like Catherine's, dart around the room eagerly. She is bright and zealous, laughing and giggling as loud as she can. I see Elizabeth giving her a sharp look. The girl beams back, reminding of what my mother was like when she was young.

She comes over to us, smiling, and lets go of the man's hand. She curtseys to me and looks at Catherine, prompting. Catherine sighs.

"This isn't how I wanted to introduce you, Laetitia" she says wearily. I look at them in confusion. Catherine sighs again.

"Alice, this is my daughter, Laetitia. We call her Lettice"

"How lovely it is to meet you, Laetitia" I said, smiling. Laetitia gave me a stunning smile in return.

"You are Alice Smythe, are you not?" she asks. I am tempted to correct her, and say no, I am Alice Boleyn. But I do not.

"Yes, I am" I say politely. She turns to the man by her side.

"See, I told you" she says pointedly, and leaves the man alone with Catherine and I. He smiles awkwardly.

"I am Henry Weston" he mumbles, "My father was Francis Weston. I believe you know of him?"

"Oh!" I exclaim, "Yes, I do! He was a very good friend to my father, and friends with my mother, too, I believe"

"Yes, he was" Henry agrees, giving me a nervous sort of smile, "He was in love with your mother, you know"

"Really?" I gasp, "How do you know?"

"I heard him and my mother arguing about it once. She was Elizabeth Smythe, wasn't she?"

"Yes, yes she was. She died very recently"

"I am sorry to hear it" says Henry, "It has been lovely meeting you, Mistress Alice"

"Yes, and you" I agree, "Thank you for telling me about your father, Master Henry"

_Isolated and alone, Elizabeth looks around her with a sense of foreboding. Faced with a vast, empty landscape that looks vaguely familiar, she wonders what she is supposed to do next. This wasn't how she imagined Heaven._

"_Hello?" she calls. Her voice is young again – as she had grown older, an excess of wine had made it more mature, but now she sings out her words just as she did when she and George first met. _

_George. Where is he?_

_As soon as the thought pops into her mind, she hears his voice, as though he is at a distance from her. He is calling for her. Her face lights up. Before she starts running, she looks down at her clothing. An old nightgown is not what she envisaged wearing upon her next meeting with George._

_I wish I had a proper gown. My crimson gown, with the gold embroidery and the jewels._

_Next time she looks down, she is wearing her crimson gown. She starts running towards the sound of George's voice, but when she actually sees him, she freezes._

_They are in their favourite field at Hever, she realises, their secret place. He is as beautiful as he ever was, his head thankfully still attached to his neck. His dark eyes gleam and dance when he sees her. She has to bite her lip until she tastes blood, just in case this isn't real. But she knows it is real, she has been dreaming about it for years, waiting for it forever._

"_George" she breathes. Her voice is barely audible, she is so stunned, but he hears her. He walks towards her, a grin sparkling on his lips. She takes a step closer to him, smiles, and he scoops her into his arms, spinning her round. She laughs aloud, her childish, youthful laugh._

"_I missed you" she says, her eyes glittering with unshed tears._

"_You have no idea" he replies, grinning, and he kisses her._

"Guess what?" George bursts into our shared chambers early the next evening as if it is perfectly acceptable to walk in without assuring that we are all decent first. Margaret shrieks and dashes from the room into her own small bedchamber, as she has just washed and is still half naked, red hair dripping water everywhere.

"What?" I ask without much interest. I am too busy thinking about what Henry Weston told me last night to worry too much about my brother's escapades. I look up briefly and notice that Eric is with him, his eyes fixed on Margaret's now closed door, possibly hoping that she will return to the room still with only half her clothing on, and so is Francis Knollys, Catherine's husband. He sees my bored look and grins, making me smile too, though I press my lips together to make it seem as though I did not find it funny at all. I do not want to look as though I am flirting with him. Which I am not. Anyhow, Catherine is convinced that I should marry Henry Weston.

"Elizabeth is making me Dean of Lichfield in a ceremony this afternoon!" George announces proudly, "Me, Alice! Is that not wonderful?"

"She trusts you to have such a position?" I ask doubtfully. George glares at me.

"You should be happy" he huffs. He looks over to Elena as though he is considering her. This worries me, and even Eric's face darkens – he is very protective of his sister.

"Elena, Elizabeth has told me that we are to be betrothed" he says suddenly. I start, and Margaret darts out of her bedchamber in a nightgown and robe, looking shocked. Elena's brown eyes widen, but she eyes George appraisingly and I see the hint of a smile on her lips. I never knew that she even liked George very much, but she looks pleased at the notion of their marriage. George looks quite pleased too, but then, Elena is his type. She has very pretty, soft, pale blond hair and wide brown eyes with spiky black lashes like Aunt Aurora. She is slim and delicate and very sweet. She is also a bit of a pushover - she would not rage at George for having affairs, which certainly scares me.

"George, may I speak with you a moment, in private?" I ask. George shrugs and follows me, while Margaret and Eric go over to Elena to offer congratulations. Francis hovers, looking awkward, and I give him a sympathetic smile which I instantly take back. He tries not to laugh.

"What is the matter, Alice?" George asks once the door is shut on my bedchamber. I give him a stern look.

"Did you push Elizabeth to make the match?" I ask. He shakes his head.

"No, I did not, but she seemed to think it would be a good idea for me to settle down, and I agreed" he explains. I look at him sceptically.

"Is that really true?"

"Yes!" he cries crossly, "Honestly, Alice, you are not my mother"

"I am now" I say, "But George; you won't be able to be faithful to her"

"Oh, I don't know. She is very pretty, and I like her well enough, and that does help when you are trying to remain faithful to someone" George says nonchalantly. I glare at him.

"I won't stand for it, George. Elena is too shy to stand up to you if you go to the brothels, but it will kill her inside. You must promise me not to hurt her, ever" I order. George sighs.

"Fine" he snaps, "But I don't like it"

"You never do"

"Stand, George Boleyn, Dean of Lichfield" Elizabeth says brightly. My eyes well with tears of pride – if only father and mother could see him now. George looks extremely smug, and even more so when Catherine's daughter Lettice winks at him. But then he looks over at Elena and turns quickly away from Lettice. Margaret and I both nod approvingly.

We watch as Robert Dudley steps forward, Elizabeth favouring him with a sheep-eyed look and a sultry smile. Margaret watches him as he kneels to be given his title.

"He is rather handsome, is he not?" she whispers to me.

"You cannot say things like that about Elizabeth's favourite, Meg, she should kill you if she overheard" I scold quietely. Margaret sighs.

"I suppose" she huffs, but she still gives Robert a Lettice-style wink when he looks toward us.

"Stand, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester" Elizabeth declares, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed. I roll my eyes.

"He is handsome though" Margaret mutters as he walks past us, and she gives him mother's smile.

**A/N: Please review!**


	5. Coronation

**A/N: Elizabeth's coronation! I've been really looking forward to this, gives me a chance to put in a lot of emotive stuff about George and Anne! Please read and review, any George and Elizabeth Heaven scenes will be in italics.**

"Does it have to be here, Elizabeth?" Margaret asks plaintively, her face pale. The sturdy grey towers rise high up into a bright blue sky, melting into green grass and cream cobblestones. I wonder if the blood of my father and aunt is still soaked into that soil, and I shiver.

"I would certainly rather it wasn't, Meg darling, but it is tradition! And dear Robin – I mean Master Dudley – reminded me that if I want harmony in my people I should stick to traditions" Elizabeth explains brightly, her cheeks flushed from the mention of her beloved Robert.

I say nothing, looking around me, looking for a familiar face. The familiar face. Charles was my Father's last confidant and friend in this world, and became invaluable to us whenever we visited my father and aunt's graves, protecting us for just long enough to allow us to grieve properly.

I spot him waiting to greet us with another guard, and beam, giving him a little wave. I wonder if he has already greeted George, who was with the men. Margaret sees him too, and waves exuberantly.

When we arrive inside Charles hangs back to walk with me. Margaret has swanned off with Elena, both of them giggling, an emerald ring sparkling on Elena's finger.

"How are you? I am glad that you have been reunited with your cousins" he says, smiling – he has been like an uncle to us since father's death.

"I am well, thank you. I think I must tell you that my mother died very recently" I tell him. Charles' face falls - he had a fondness for my mother that I am not sure was entirely proper. Still, I admire him for admiring her even after she had been torn apart by grief.

"Oh, I am so sorry to hear it. She was a very brave woman. Was she in pain?"

"A little. But she was more...delirious. She insisted that my father was in the room, she spoke to him too" I explain forlornly. He squeezes my arm and waves me off to catch up with the rest of the crowd. I slip in beside Catherine, whose face is pale and haunted. I fear that I must look similar, especially when a guard swings open a door to a room that I recognise well from my mother's description. I shiver and my legs tremble. Margaret falls back to stand beside me and grab my hand. We are all looking at Elizabeth, who looks almost grey.

"Kat!" she cries shrilly, "Kat, I feel terribly unwell!"

Kat Ashley rushes over to her and grips her arm, sleeved in blue velvet. We cannot hear her, her voice is barely there, but I can read her lips;

"Kat, this is where my mother died".

I gulp. Kat nods and pats Elizabeth's arm.

"I know, dear princess. Come, your ladies can unpack while you have a lie down" Kat says gently. As the ladies move in a flurry of activity, even Margaret, who dashes towards Elizabeth's trunk of clothes (she loves touching the gowns), I slip silently from the room. My silk slippers make no sound, and when I am finally outside I take a deep lungful of air, thinking that this is the last air that my father ever breathed. I press my lips together and walk determinedly towards Martins Tower, though I am not sure that I should be going there at all.

It is empty inside, deserted and cold – the guards are too preoccupied fussing over Elizabeth and the preparations for her coronation tomorrow. I walk up the steps – I have visited this room only once, and I was but a child peering in through a tiny hatch window in the door, but I remember it horribly well.

The door to the cell is left open. There is a narrow, low bed, a little like the one Margaret slept on at home. There is a basin for water and a small cabinet.

It is the walls that are the true wonder. There are carvings in a pattern just above the bed, and I step closer to them with bated breath.

The symbol of a falcon, Aunt Anne's symbol as a Queen, painstakingly carved. I imagine my father carving the image into the stone and press my fingertips to the slices in the wall. Then the word 'Boullain', the French spelling of the family name. Finally the initials 'G.B', carved very tidily into the wall. A single, crystalline tear slides in a ribbon down my cheek, and I wipe it impatiently away. I wonder if my father wept too as he carved these last shows of defiance, of treason. I am proud, prouder than I have ever been.

"Are you proud of me?" I whisper softly, smiling tremulously. I swallow my sobs and leave the room, shutting the door behind me as if to give father some privacy.

* * *

"_That silly girl" George sighed, hugging Elizabeth as they watched their eldest child weep over his carvings, "Of course I am proud of her!"_

"_Well, she wouldn't know that, would she?" Elizabeth pointed out, laughing, letting her eyes feast on her beautiful daughter, a woman now. Grief had shaped and moulded her into the strongest human being Elizabeth could imagine._

"_Come with me" said George suddenly, "I need to introduce you to someone. I have no idea where she is – she is probably off with her friends"_

"_Who?" Elizabeth asked, bemused. George smiled. _

"_Lisbeth!" he called, "Lisbeth, it has happened!"_

_A young girl materialised into thin air. She had grown to sixteen a few years before and had chosen to remain that age. She was like an even younger Elizabeth – slim and fragile looking, russet curls, big blue eyes. She was the only one of Elizabeth's children who had not inherited her father' dark eyes._

"_Who are you?" Elizabeth asked, frowning at the girl, a little scared. Lisbeth beamed._

"_Mama!" she cried, racing towards Elizabeth and embracing her. Elizabeth was confused._

"_Mama?" she asked, looking at George. George smiled tenderly and stroked Lisbeth's hair, his arm around Elizabeth's waist._

"_The baby that we conceived in Calais? The child you lost at Anne and Henry's wedding?" he explained. Elizabeth gasped and gazed down at the stunning young woman that clung to her waist. She embraced the girl fiercely in return, tears filling her eyes._

"_How?" she breathed. George laughed._

"_It was Lisbeth who welcomed me here. Who were you with, Lisbeth?" he sounded stern, "Not romancing any more young men, I hope?"_

"_No, Papa" said Lisbeth, rolling her eyes and pulling away from her Mother, holding her hand instead, "I was with Aunt Anne and Henry Percy"_

"_What?" Elizabeth squeaked, "Anne is here? And she is with Henry Percy?"_

"_Yes, she is with her childhood love" George grinned, "They are happy together now. Would you like to meet her? And Mary?"_

"_Yes!" Elizabeth demanded, "At once!"_

* * *

We parade into Westminster Abbey with great pomp and ceremony. Elizabeth is beautiful, dressed in gold, hair loose and gleaming, a mixture of deep orange and sunset red. She waves happily at the cheering people as she rides past. Children give her posies, old women kiss her hand, and sailors throw their caps high into the air. Elizabeth accepts this as if it is natural, as if she did not spend the whole night unable to sleep without being haunted by her mother's ghost.

There is a beautiful statue erected by the Abbey, of King Henry the tyrant and beautiful aunt Anne, a smile hovering on her lips. A young Elizabeth stands between them, beaming, still a child. If only that was how it had really happened.

We file into the Abbey. I am crammed between dear George, who is standing very tall and proud, and Catherine's husband Francis Knollys. He winks at me. I grin back.

"Does she not look exceptionally beautiful?" I whisper to him with pride. He laughs, but he is not looking at Elizabeth when he replies;

"Yes, very beautiful indeed".

He is looking at me.


	6. Wedding

**A/N: This is surprisingly quick at updating for me, but I just really felt like writing another chapter, which is probably a good thing! Please read and review, George and Elizabeth Heaven scenes are in italics.**

"_Did you see that? Did you see that?" Elizabeth was struck deeply by the sight that she had so missed – Anne Boleyn, practically her sister, a smile splitting her face and pride in her dark eyes. She was clinging to the arm of Henry Percy, whom Elizabeth did not remember, though she privately agreed that he was very handsome. Mary was beside them, looking into a mirror very much like the one that George and Elizabeth had been watching their children in._

"_Yes, I saw it!" Mary sighed crossly, obviously bored of the topic. William Stafford appeared behind her and put his arms around her. Elizabeth smiled to see them, the people she loved. George strode into the crowd, pulling her along with him._

"_Guess who finally arrived?" he grinned. Mary shrieked and embraced Elizabeth fiercely, beaming. Anne tore her eyes away from the mirror, then tore her arm away from Henry Percy and ran to her friend._

"_Liz! We missed you. We've been waiting for you for ages. How is Aurora coping without all of us?"_

"_Not too well, from what I saw in the mirror" Elizabeth replied, feeling bad for her dear cousin, all alone. _

"_Well, thank goodness you are here – we were all getting thoroughly bored of George gazing into his bloody mirror day in and day out, watching your every bloody move. Every time you sneezed he was watching you, for goodness sakes!" Mary complained. George blushed._

"_I wasn't that bad" he lied, not looking at any of them._

"_He was, Mama" said Lisbeth, rolling her eyes a second time. _

"_Did you see my daughter's coronation?" Anne asked eagerly, "She was wonderful! So regal; a true Queen! She looked so beautiful"_

"_No, I am afraid I must have missed it" Elizabeth confessed. Anne scowled, but was soon smiling again as she grabbed Elizabeth's hand and dragged her towards the mirror._

"_Come, we can watch it again!"_

"_Oh God" Mary groaned, "Time for me to disappear. If I see that bloody crown one more time I might die again"_

* * *

"How do I look?" George asks me, turning in his new outfit to allow me to admire every angle of the expensive white and gold material.

"Simply lovely. Honestly, George, you are as vain as any woman" I taunt, smiling. George attempts to throw a vase at me, but I duck just in time. He curses his own poor aim.

"I have to go" I tell him, "I am a bridesmaid and must help ready Elena. Good luck, dearest brother" I kiss his cheeks and he pushes me away, grinning.

I have spent so much time with George that I am forced to run to reach Elena. She is being readied in our chamber by Margaret, Catherine, her mother Aunt Aurora, who has come to court with Thomas for the wedding, and a variety of maids. She looks stunning in a gown of cloth of gold and ivory satin and damask. Pearls are twisted into her honey coloured hair, and she clutches a bouquet of red roses.

"You are late" Aurora says sternly – Elena is too nervous to say anything. She came to my chamber last night and asked me for advice for her wedding night – Margaret must have told her about the stable hand that I gave myself to at fourteen. I shall kill that girl. But I had no advice for her, and she left disappointed to seek her mother.

"Sorry" I apologize, gesturing to a maid to help me into my red gown. As she laces me up, another maid comes over and ties up my hair, allowing a few wild black curls to fall over my face.

"No matter" says Elena at last, somewhat jittery, "Alice, does he really like me?"

"I do really think he does, Elena" I say truthfully, and a smile lights up her face.

It seems like only moments later that Thomas arrives and takes his daughter's arm. Aurora hurries away to join the other guests, including Eric. Margaret, Catherine and I stand behind her, to follow in the wedding procession.

We take our places in the church, in the front row. Elizabeth is on one of the top balconies of the chapel, and she waves eagerly at us bridesmaids, making me giggle.

I concentrate hard on my brother's vows, noticing with pride that he speaks with the utmost sincerity and truth. Elena is pink and glowing, pressing her lips together as if hiding a smile of triumph.

"Your brother looks surprisingly honest" Francis Knollys whispers to me, grinning, "I heard he was rather fond of whoring"

"Oh, he is" I whisper back, trying not to laugh, "But I may have threatened him to be good to Elena"

"Ah, I see" Francis snorts with laughter, and Eric glares at him, annoyed at the interruption of his sister's nuptials. Now I, also, have a terrible urge to laugh, and bury my face in my bouquet instead, which makes me sneeze with surprising force. Francis is shaking with silent laughter by this point, and I have to stare down at the floor and bite hard on my lip to stop myself from doing the same.

"You are a terrible influence" he hisses as the ceremony finishes. I giggle and stumble away from him with Catherine and Margaret.

* * *

Elizabeth has organised lavish celebrations for after the wedding, which everyone seems to be thoroughly enjoying. Liz herself sits beside Robert Dudley, giggling like a child, her eyes sparkling, her cheeks flushed and lips parted. I shake my head and her silliness.

Margaret calls for a dance, and Eric immediately dashes forward to claim her, though she is looking longingly at the charming Robert. George takes Elena out for their first dance as man and wife, causing applause to fly through the crowd.

I notice Catherine leaving the room with Laetitia, and I go over to Francis to inquire after her.

"Where has Catherine gone?" I ask him. He sighs, rolling his eyes.

"Laetitia has been behaving inappropriately again. Catherine is going to stay with her away from these revels as a punishment. Unfortunately it involved Catherine herself having to keep away from the festivities" Francis explains. The concern for Catherine in his voice causes a strange, painful leap in my belly, like something clawing at my insides. I try not to show evidence on my face of this strange new feeling.

"Shall you ask me to dance?" I suggest instead, "I am terribly bored"

He grins, "You are far too presumptuous, but indeed I shall"

I take his arm and we slip easily into the dance, both still smiling. It is a boisterous dance especially for these types of festivities, and we jump and leap with the others, red-faced and laughing.

When he puts his hand on my waist a bolt of energy rushes through me and I jerk quickly and sharply away from him, confused.

"I need to...I am tired now" I lie as soon as the dance is over, moving quickly away from him. He looks confused too, and I wonder if he felt it as well. I shiver at the implications that come with that sort of feeling and push the memory to the back of my mind, hastily departing the great hall.


	7. The Inconvienience of Men

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long, the past month or so has been very hectic! George and Elizabeth in Heaven scenes are in italics. Please review!**

"Never?" Cecil looks shocked, his face drawn of all colour, "But Princess, Your Majesty, I –"

"Never" Elizabeth repeats, finality in her voice. I shouldn't be overhearing this, but it's the first time I've actually been interested in anything but...him, since last week.

"What about your father's dynasty, Your Majesty? All his hard work to preserve the Tudor throne? You would let it go to waste?" Cecil is treading dangerous ground. Elizabeth snorts.

"Hard work?" she repeats, "I loved my Father, Cecil, but let us not forget that his desperation for a male heir and a dynasty lead to the death of my mother"

"But Your Majesty –"

"Do you not understand, William?" Elizabeth is flushed red with rage, and her voice has become a scathing hiss, "I have seen what men, what marriage, do to a woman. They become submissive, weak, powerless, like my sister, God rest her soul. And what of the ones that do dare to be stubborn and fight back? My mother was like that, as was her cousin, my stepmother Kathryn Howard, and what happened to them? They lay their head on the block for disobeying their husbands. I will not be made a mouse, I tell you!"

I can't help smiling at Elizabeth's words, exactly the sort of thing that my Aunt Anne would have said if she had had the chance to fight.

Cecil leaves the room, muttering apologies, bowing all the way. Elizabeth looks to me and Margaret.

"Was I right?" she asks anxiously. Margaret giggles.

"It was very apt, Your Majesty" she praises, still laughing. Elizabeth laughs too, then shares a look with me. We have the same expression in our matching black eyes. I nod slowly and she beams.

The doors to Elizabeth's rooms open, and the men enter to present her with the kill from their hunt. Elizabeth laughs gleefully and claps her hands like a little girl at the sight of mounds of fresh meat. Francis Knollys darts toward his wife, out of the group, and kisses Catherine's cheek. She smiles lovingly at him and I have to look away, biting down hard on my lip.

I no longer know what I feel. Since the dance at my brother's wedding I have purposely kept to myself, keeping a distance from Francis. I wish only that I could speak with my brother George, but he is still on his honeymoon. Although Margaret and I are as close as sisters can be, there is still the usual, healthy amount of sisterly rivalry between us, plus Margaret would be sure to blab to someone or another, without meaning to. But George reminds me so much of my father, and he made those dark days after father's death so much brighter, so much easier for us all. I have a relationship with him such as my father had with my aunt Anne, and trust him completely.

I have no-one left to talk to.

* * *

"_Dear God" Elizabeth mumbled worriedly, watching her daughter's despairing face in the mirror. _

"_What is it?" George asked, just as anxious as he read his daughter's sadness. _

"_George! Liz! Did you see what my Elizabeth has done?" Anne shrieked, dashing towards them. _

_The couple turned impatiently to Anne, whose eyes were overflowing with tears of pride. It was rare that Elizabeth saw her friend crying, but she was too worried for Alice to pay much heed to Anne's tears. _

"_What did she do now?" George asked. Anne gave him a reproachful look._

"_You could try to care, George, she is your niece and Queen of England, for goodness sake! Look" Anne concentrated hard on the mirror, and the image of Alice and Margaret disappeared to be replaced with an image of Elizabeth, burning with fire and rage. They listened to Elizabeth's defiant, impassioned speech, admitting to themselves that it was, indeed, magnificent. Anne was clapping her hands in glee, just as Elizabeth did just moments later. Without another word she twirled away, possibly to torment Henry over his daughter's majestic triumph, leaving Elizabeth and George free to call upon the image of their eldest child once again._

"_What is going on?" George asked Elizabeth. She wrapped her arms around him tightly and clung to him._

"_Our poor child" she murmured, "She is in love"_

"_That is no bad thing!" George exclaimed, relieved. Elizabeth rolled her eyes._

"_It is when the man she loves is married to her dearest friend and cousin, and she is not sure whether he feels the same way for her" Elizabeth explained. George paled._

"_Oh dear. We had better not tell Mary. Poor Alice"_

"_And Margaret"_

"_Margaret too?" George cried, horrified, "What is wrong with her?"_

"_She is just as horribly in love with Elizabeth's favourite Robert Dudley" Elizabeth sighed. George stared at her._

"_How do you know all of this?" he asked. Elizabeth snorted._

"_I know what unrequited love looks like. Remember, until I was fourteen I believed that you could never love me. I know what it is like"_

_George kissed her hair, "How could you have ever thought that?"_

"_I don't know" Elizabeth shrugged, "I do feel terribly depressed now, though"_

_George laughed weakly, "Shall we see how George is getting on?"_

"_No! The poor boy is on his honeymoon, he would die of embarrassment if he knew we were watching him!" Elizabeth protested._

"_You had no scruples about watching his wedding. Or his wedding night"_

"_That's a lie! I stopped watching as soon as he had kissed Elena!"_

"_Did you really?"_

"_Yes!" shrieked Elizabeth crossly, punching his arm, "Do you know, your son is a complete womaniser? He definitely takes after you. I just hope he can stay faithful to Elena"_

"_He will. Don't forget, the second I met you again at court I stopped being a womaniser. It just takes true love. Well, a true love who knows what to do in bed"_

"_Stop it!" Elizabeth cried, "I didn't know what to do, and you stayed with me"_

"_Yes, because I love you and you were a quick learner" George retorted. Elizabeth glared at him._

"_Honestly. Come on, let us go and find Lisbeth and tell her about her sisters"_

* * *

"You wanted to see me, your Majesty?" I smile feebly at my cousin, seated alone at a desk, surrounded by state papers. She pushes them away to smile at me.

"I did. Have a seat, Alice. And I told you to call me Elizabeth in private" Elizabeth scolds lightly. I sit opposite her and give her a weak imitation of a friendly grin. She sighs.

"What is wrong with you lately, Alice?" her voice is gently probing, curious. I look at my skirt instead, folding the blue material into small pleats.

"Do you miss Elena?" Elizabeth presses. I shake my head, then nod it.

"Well, yes. But that isn't it"

"Can you tell me?"

"No, Elizabeth, I can't. I am sorry" I apologise, my voice almost whiny. She just nods solemnly, understanding.

"I actually asked you here to make you an offer" she says slowly, "A betrothal, with a man of the court. Margaret says that you are fond of him. Henry Weston?"

I mentally curse Margaret for her lies. My face pales. I bite my lip, thinking. I could have a normal life. I could marry a man, a nice man, who is really rather handsome, and be happy, in time. We could continue the legacy that my mother and his father never had. I would not have to be like my mother and father, in love with someone I could never have. I could live at court with my husband and have children, legitimate children who would never have to deny their parentage to keep their lives, as I had to.

But that isn't the life I want. Well, it is, but not with Henry Weston. I need to admit to myself that I am in love with someone else, a man who can never be mine because he belongs to someone I treasure. A man who cannot be mine because I hate to hurt people, because I never do anything just for myself. So, really, I should accept this offer, this marriage.

But I can't.

"Elizabeth, it is so wonderful of you to offer me this...gift. But I cannot do it, Elizabeth, I am sorry" I flee from the room, curtseying as I go, tears streaming down my face.

* * *

"_Lisbeth?" Elizabeth called, stumbling along with her arm around George's waist, "Where are you, sweetheart?"_

"_Here, Mama" Lisbeth's voice was too bright, too innocent. Elizabeth squinted at her daughter, noticing the swollen lips and wild hair. _

"_Lisbeth!" she exclaimed, "Who is he?"_

"_Who is who?" George demanded, adorably confused. Lisbeth blushed._

"_You won't like it" she muttered. _

_Francis Weston appeared, put his arm around Lisbeth. Elizabeth paled and wobbled. George caught her and gripped her before she could fall._

"_What are you doing with my daughter?" he growled. Francis could not look at his old friend, not even at Elizabeth._

"_Mama, Papa..."Lisbeth looked from one to the other, blushing, "This is my new husband"_


	8. The Mistakes of the Boleyn Girls

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long, but summer is so hectic! And I'm going away for a few days this weekend, so I'm not sure when the next update on any of my stories will be. But please read and review, all George and Elizabeth scenes will be in italics.**

"_Your WHAT?" George exploded. Lisbeth fidgeted._

"_My husband, Papa" she repeated feebly. George glared at Francis._

"_What the fucking hell do you think you are playing at? You couldn't have Elizabeth, so you took her daughter instead, is that it?"_

_Francis, who had until then kept his eyes to the ground, looked up, glancing quickly at Elizabeth, then at George._

"_Of course not!" he snapped, "What do you think I am?"_

"_All I know is you adored the love of my life for thirteen years, and went mad when you couldn't have her, and now you have married her daughter, whom she looks very like. Is it because Lisbeth reminded you of the woman that was never yours?" George's voice was cold and harsh. Lisbeth paled._

"_Papa, please!" she begged, "Don't be horrible, please Papa"_

"_Leave them" Elizabeth said suddenly, seeing the anguish in her daughter's eyes, "She isn't trying to upset us, George, she just loves him"_

"_But does he love her?" George asked, scowling, snatching his arm away from Elizabeth's. She gave him a reproachful look which he ignored._

"_Of course I do. I would never have married her if I did not" Francis replied. Elizabeth saw it then, the truth in his gaze that she had not previously noticed. _

"_He's telling the truth" she said firmly, "George, let them be. Lisbeth would tell us if she ever had any problems"_

_Lisbeth nodded, smiling weakly at her mother, "I would. I waited all those years for the two of you, and I would never take you for granted"_

_Elizabeth smiled back, "Come, George" she demanded, taking his hand. George scowled._

"_This isn't over" he snapped at Francis, "I'll be watching. If you hurt her, I'll kill you with my bare hands"_

"_Despite the fact that we're already dead?" Francis queried, looking mildly amused. George blushed._

"_Well...I'll hurt you. At the very least I'll hurt you"_

* * *

I watch my sister with the vague sort of interest that I have every morning. Today, however, I am even vaguer. My mind and my heart are no longer my own, taken over by these mad and delusional thoughts that maybe one day he will love me in return.

I wonder if my mother ever felt like this. As though her heart had swollen every time she saw him, how every time he casually ignored her her heart broke that little bit more.

I doubt it.

"Alice, what's wrong with you?" asks Margaret eventually, examining her reflection in the mirror like the vain little peacock she is, "I miss Elena and George too, but I am not as sullen as you!"

"I'm fine" I lie smoothly, watching my baby sister more closely. She twines her copper coloured curls around her fingers before sweeping them up into a smooth and elegant bun atop her head. Her skin is roses and cream, thanks to a milky white paste and red flaky powder. She has been dripping dew into her dark eyes, so that they glitter and gleam alluringly, and she is wearing her favourite cloth of gold gown. As I watch, she fastens a necklace dripping with diamonds and pearls around her slender neck.

"Meg, where did you get those jewels?" I ask, suddenly suspicious. She freezes for a moment, then giggles, her cheeks suddenly flushed and her eyes wide with excitement.

"Oh, well, it is a secret, really...but you are my sister..." she hesitates, laughs again, "You won't tell anyone?"

"Of course not!" I cry impatiently, eager to know what is going to, keen to have something new to focus on, "Who are you fucking,, Meg?"

"Alice! Mama would kill you for being so crude! But..." she blushes, "I am now the mistress of Sir Robert Dudley"

I freeze, "Meg, no!"

Her smile disappears, "You are not happy for me? You know how I feel about him"

"But-but he is the Queen's favourite! And now your reputation shall be ruined?"

"How so?" asks Margaret coolly, as if she is only mildly interested.

"You were a maid untouched, which would have helped no end with marriage negotiations! Now you are just a little slut!"

Margaret's eyebrows rise, "A maid, was I? How strange that I had no knowledge of that"

My eyes widen, "You were not a maid?"

"No. And neither are you, so I absolutely forbid you to lecture me" Margaret looks angry, her mild tantrum blooming into one of our mother's full on rages, "I love Sir Robert, and I assure you he feels the same way about me. We are so perfectly matched, I care not that Bess adores him so. He says that she is ridiculous over him, that he does not care one jot for her"

"He never did!" I protest, "Meg, he and Elizabeth have been companions for as long as anyone can remember, possibly lovers too!"

"He has never lain with her" Margaret retorts promptly, "You have no right to interfere, Alice, you are not my mother!"

"And I wish to God that she were here now! Maybe she could talk some sense into you! Meg, you are playing such a dangerous game!" I cry out, "How can you not understand that Elizabeth will be outraged?"

"She can do nothing" Margaret snaps, rising from her seat with a sudden and unexpected dignity, "Tonight I shall dance with Sir Robert, and then he shall take me to his rooms and I shall lie with him until dawn and she can do nothing about it!"

"But what if she suspects?" I shriek, desperately trying to knock some sense into my sister.

"And what does it matter if she does? I hope she does, infact! I hope she thinks about him having me and it tortures her!"

"What has she ever done to you, Margaret? She has accepted us here as her cousins, taken away our bastard status, she is Aunt Anne's daughter!"

"She still tries to win him back" hisses Margaret furiously, "I will not stand for it, Alice! I shall see you later!"

And with that she slams out of the rooms, leaving me desperately confused about both my life and her own.

* * *

"_I am very angry with your daughter" Anne announced, scowling at her brother and Elizabeth, who were urgently discussing Lisbeth's latest mistake._

"_Are you?" said Elizabeth mildly, "How nice. Never forget, however, that she is your niece..."she paused, "Wait a minute, which one?"_

"_Margaret" said Anne, seating herself beside them, "She's a shameless little whore, I tell you"_

"_Anne" growled George warningly, "Don't insult my daughter"_

"_Dear God, what has she done?" asked Elizabeth anxiously. _

"_See for yourself" Anne scowled, gesturing to the mirror. _

"_Oh my!" Elizabeth squeaked, quickly averting her eyes from the image of her daughter and Robert Dudley, "Anne, how could you sit and watch my daughter doing...that?"_

"_I was just checking up on her" Anne retorted, scowling. George had gone pale and was covering his ears while screwing his eyes tightly shut. _

"_Make it go away!" he pleaded, "I cannot watch a man do that to my daughter!"_

_Anne sighed and allowed the image to dissolve and fade, "I apologise. But don't you understand?"_

"_No, Anne, I don't" said George, still wincing, "I feel slightly ill, however"_

"_Oh, I understand" said Elizabeth suddenly, "Oh, Anne. But Margaret loves him!"_

"_And? So does Elizabeth. And she is Queen, she gets priority"_

"_No she doesn't. If Robert finds my daughter more attractive than he does yours, then that's Elizabeth's problem, not Margaret's. She can't help being beautiful" Elizabeth retorted smugly._

_Anne glared at her, "Don't you dare say that my daughter isn't beautiful! Have you seen her lately, she's stunning, so powerful, so perfect!"_

"_Let us not argue over this, please" George groaned, "I have not had a good day and I don't need you two brawling like alley cats making it worse!"_

"_Sorry" Elizabeth mumbled, "Anyway, Anne, if Alice has anything to do with it, Margaret and Robert won't last much longer"_

"_It had better not "Anne agreed menacingly._

* * *

"The Queen wishes to see you at once, Mistress Alice" says the messenger hovering outside my door. I nod, having an inkling of what our conversations might be about.

I follow the messenger to Elizabeth's presence chamber and notice him looking at me in a way that I have not been accustomed to for a long time. He sees me looking and winks, grinning. I can't help smiling back. Nothing can come of it, I know that, except maybe a hurried fumble in a corridor, but I feel so alone that for a moment I actually consider it.

It has been a week since Margaret told me of her affair with Sir Robert, and a month since George and Elena's wedding, when I danced with Francis and felt that I might love him.

"Enter" calls Elizabeth imperiously. I step into the room, expecting to simply see my cousin and Queen seated on her throne, possibly with her beloved advisor Cecil beside her. I do indeed see Elizabeth, but either side of her sits my brother and Elena.

"George!" I shriek, holding up my skirts like a country girl and running towards my younger brother. He laughs and holds me in a firm embrace.

"I missed you too, Alice" he laughs, pulling back to grin at me, "You are well?"

"Well enough. You?"

"Never been better" George grins over at Elena, who smiles sweetly back. I move away from George and hold out my arms. She runs into the them, laughing, and we cling to each other.

"I missed you too" I tell her, "Court life is never the same"

"I am with child" Elena tells me proudly. I shriek.

"Oh, congratulations, both of you!" I grip my brother in a second embrace.

"Thank you" he says, then moving away.

"Elizabeth has just been telling us about what Margaret has been getting up to in our absence" George continues, suddenly solemn. We take seats beside Elizabeth.

"Oh" I squeak, "Elizabeth, I did try to speak with her, I swear it"

"How could she disrespect me in such a way?" Elizabeth asks tearfully, "I consider Margaret such a good and loyal friend to me, and now she has done such a terrible thing!"

"What are you going to do to her?" I ask, a little fearful of her answer. Elizabeth smiles, suddenly bright.

"I have arranged to have Margaret married. I found a very eager volunteer for her hand, who was as much upset by this situation as myself"

"Eric" I say with a small smile as Eric appears from behind Elizabeth, where I had previously not noticed him.

"You're sure you want to take her on?" I ask him wryly, "I know you love her, but she's a handful, I won't lie to you. She's flighty and vain and she has the most terrible temper. Can you deal with all of that?"

"Of course" says Eric calmly, and he is beaming. I trust him instantly.

"Take care of her" I say with a little smile, "But should she not be notified?"

"Of course" says Elizabeth, as a knock comes at the door, "I think that is her now"

Margaret steps in, looking anxious. She is obviously expecting a confrontation, which, for all her talk, she obviously wishes to avoid.

"Alice?" she frowns, "What are you...George!"

George hugs her, "Hello, sister"

"I missed you!" she cries, "Elena! You look so well"

They embrace too, and Elena shares her news with Margaret. My sister beams.

"Excellent" she says brightly. She curtsies to Elizabeth, flashes a small smile in Eric's direction as she notices him.

"You wanted to see me?" she says to Elizabeth, her voice almost haughtily calm.

"I wish to tell you that I have arranged a betrothal for you" Elizabeth says with forced cheeriness.

"You have?" Margaret breathes, chalky pale. Her lower lip trembles.

"Yes. With your dear friend Eric" Elizabeth declares. As Margaret freezes, Eric gives her a shy smile. I feel so bad for him – any fool could see that Margaret is horrified by the compromise.

She manages to hold her head up high, though her eyes glitter, "Thank you for this kind gift, you Majesty. I am very grateful"

"You are very welcome. And please, dear Margaret, call me Elizabeth"

Margaret nods, and curtsies, "Of course, Elizabeth"

Only I see the tears that roll down her cheeks as she leaves.


	9. Under Love's Heavy Burden

**A/N: Sorry again that it's been so long! Well, actually, only a week or two, I think. But that's still long. Sorry. All George and Elizabeth heaven scenes will be in italics, please read and review!**

"_Don't you dare blame me for this!" Anne shrieked, "Honestly, George, I don't control my daughter!"_

"_No, but you passed all of your malice and spite onto her, did you not?" George retorted sharply. Anne scowled. _

"_You leave her alone! She is a wonderful woman and Queen, and you should feel as much pride for her as I do!"_

"_Arguing again?" Mary appeared beside Elizabeth, who had been trying to interrupt George and Anne's argument for the past five minutes, to no avail._

"_Yes. I do have a point to add, but they refuse to listen"_

"_They shall calm down soon. We just have to wait for the storm to pass" Mary smiled and sat down with Elizabeth, watching her brother and sister fight, mildly amused._

"_How can I care for her as I should when she made my daughter cry?" George exploded._

"_Your daughter made her cry too! Margaret is just a whore, Elizabeth is a Queen!"_

"_How dare you! She is not a whore, she is just a child!"_

"_If she were a child, she would not be doing what you saw her doing with Robert Dudley, the love of my daughter's life, just the other day!"_

"_Don't remind me" George pleaded, grimacing, "Can we just admit that both of our daughters were wrong?"_

"_I suppose" Anne agreed reluctantly, "We're dead and still fighting their battles for them"_

"_Can I make my point now?" Elizabeth begged, relieved that their argument was over._

"_What is it?" George sat next to her, "Good day, Mary"_

"_Hello, George, Anne" Mary rolled her eyes._

"_Sister" Anne responded curtly, sitting down, "Go on, Elizabeth"_

"_Margaret...she loves Robert. Honestly, she does. But so does Elizabeth, and she knows that, so she's trying to make the best of the situation. She's upset, because she loves Eric like a brother, not like a husband, and she's furious with Elizabeth. But...I think that she may grow to love Eric. She's strong. I think she may grow to love him"_

_George stared at her, amazed, "How do you know her so well?"_

"_I had nothing left except my children, once you were gone. I can read them like books"_

* * *

"Are you sure? I could just keep pretending that you have the ague. But I do think Eric wishes to see you" I offer, hoping that she will turn me down.

"I shall have to face them all again at some point. Eric especially" Margaret sighs and looks worriedly at me, "Does he really care for me as much as you say?"

"I believe so" I say firmly. She nods.

"Alright. Then I shall be charming and pleasant" she gulps, "Do you think they will all whisper about me? You know...a disgraced whore, a discarded whore...they all knew what Sir Robert and I were doing, and they will surely have heard of my betrothal now. Will they talk about me?"

I give her a little smile, "Do you want to hear a story that Mama told me?"

Margaret nods fervently, "Please"

I sit beside her and take her hand, "When she was at Papa's trial, she was so outraged that they had declared him guilty, so distraught that he would have to die, that she stood up in the hall, in front of all the people of the court, and she screamed at her husband, blaming him for not trying to save Papa. She raged at him and she sobbed as Papa was taken away. Because she had done that the whole court remembered – they remembered the intimacy between Mama and Papa when they talked or danced or rode out hunting. They remembered Mama's two pregnancies and her delight every time that Papa won a joust or gained a new title. They remembered everything"

"But surely she never saw them again?" asks Margaret, confused.

"No, she did. She had to stay at court until Aunt Anne's death four days later, to say goodbye. The day of Aunt's death was the day she left. And during all that was going on, even though she was broken apart with grief and fear, she had to enter the court at night, when everyone was still happy and dancing and ignorant of everything she was feeling. They all looked at her when she walked into that hall, all the Seymour's whispered about her, the King and Lord Cromwell muttered about her in a corner, worried that she might be a threat. They whispered, the whole court, that she was George Boleyn's whore, a disgraced and lonely woman. They said all those awful things about her even when she had lost the thing she loved most and she was walking around like a corpse"

"Why are you telling me this?" asks Margaret, all the more puzzled. I laugh fondly at her.

"Because I am trying to tell you that nothing, nothing, could be worse than walking through a court full of people who used to be your friends when you felt like you had lost everything. She struggled to even survive those few days, because she had no-one left to help her. So if people whisper about you, just remember that it will all be over and forgotten by next week, when your betrothal or a new treaty with France will be the most interesting things in the country. You won't have to live with it the rest of your life, like Mama did"

Margaret nods and embraces me tightly, "Thank you, Alice" she mumbles thickly, "I don't know what I'd do without you"

"Hibernate?" I suggest, and she laughs.

* * *

"Shall we dance?" Elizabeth asks the room in general, loudly and gaily. There is a chorus of cheerful agreement at the suggestion, and even Margaret roars in approval. She is making the best of things, charming and flirting with Eric, in only the way she can. Yet every so often she glances over at Sir Robert, and I see immense sadness in her eyes.

"Try and get me to dance" Elena snorts, glancing down at her rounded belly, "I don't think anyone would be able to get near enough to try"

We all laugh. Pregnancy suits Elena – she was always impossibly beautiful, golden and stunning, but now she looks so healthy and vital, and George adores her. She has written to Aurora, who has promised to come to court for her daughter's last month of lying-in. I am so looking forward to seeing her again.

"I think you are going to dance" George tells Elena sternly. She giggles.

"I can't, I shall look ridiculous!" she protests.

"Find yourself a partner!" Elizabeth orders noisily, "In a few moments we shall dance a Volte!"

Everyone squeals and gasps eagerly. The Volte is the favourite dance for court couples. I do not look at Francis, who stands beside me. Catherine is unwell, and I miss her sorely, but at least I do not have to worry about her catching me looking at her husband.

"A Volte!" Elena cries, "Definitely not, you shall hurt yourself, trying to lift me when I am in this state!"

George just grins, "Come along, now , Elena, you look perfectly fine to me" he takes her hand and leads her out. Elizabeth is being pleaded by a group of several courtiers, all kneeling at her feet, and she giggles and flutters her fan, pretending that the choice is difficult.

"Margaret? Would you like to dance?" Eric offers nervously, interrupting Margaret's eager chatter. She hesitates, looking over at Sir Robert, kneeling at Elizabeth's feet. When it becomes clear to her that he will not ask her to dance tonight or any other night, she holds her chin up, smiles a sparkling smile at Eric, and accepts his hand. He looks pleasantly surprised.

I resign myself to just watching once again. If it were not a Volte, George may have taken me out, but he loves the way Elena dances the Volte, and I know he would not miss the opportunity.

"Ah, Mistress Alice, come along. We cannot stand here, the only two people not dancing, just because we are not romantically attached!" Francis complains, "Come on, it shall be fun!"

I smile at him, "If you say so" I agree, faking reluctance. He laughs and takes my hand to lead me away, to the other couples spread around. Elizabeth has finally and unsurprisingly chosen Robert for her partner, and they stand in the centre of the floor. The other men who had grovelled at her feet are now circulating the spare ladies for new parties. Each lady, prettier than the one before her, takes a man's hand and they join in. Almost the whole court is up on the floor. Francis and I are almost completely obscured by other couples. The thought sets my heart racing.

We stomp and twirl, laughing the whole time from the exhilaration of it all. He lifts me into the air and I give a little squeak that I hope he does not hear as I slide down the length of his body on my way back to the ground.

But as he presses me close to him, I give a little gasp that has nothing to do with my exhaustion from the dancing. My eyelashes flutter a little, my cheeks flush as I gaze up at him. He is looking at me in shock, and I wonder if he can see what I am feeling in my eyes.

"Excuse me" I whisper, twirling away from him, slipping through the crowd. I run towards my chamber, and I can hear footsteps behind me. Elena or George must have seen me, they were very close, and they will be coming after me to find out what is wrong.

I fall into my room and shut the door, slumping breathlessly against the heavy wood.

It is true. What I prayed was just an infatuation on my part, is nothing so simple at all. I am in love with him, I am sure of it now. And in lust with him too, if that is possible. I love him and I want him, that is all I know.

I start to cry, great, heaving sobs. Someone knocks at the door.

I shall have to let them in. If it is Elena, as I suspect, then she will be frantic with worry. And if it is George, as I also suspect, he will not move until I have opened the door.

I sniffle loudly and drag my sleeve across my eyes to dry my tears. I open the door.

I freeze in shock.

"Francis?"I croak.

"Can I come in?"


	10. Consequences of forbidden love

**A/N: Sorry for leaving you all on such a cliff-hanger! I couldn't resist it. Hope you like this, please read and review, all George and Elizabeth in heaven scenes will be in italics.**

"Of course" I mumble, stepping back to allow him into my chamber. He looks around for a moment, seeming rather awkward, then gives me a rueful smile.

"Why did you leave?" he asks, and I hear the reproach in his voice, "I looked a fool, standing there without a partner"

"I felt that I had to be alone" I admit softly, "I apologise"

Francis is looking curiously at me, "What is the matter with you, Alice? You have been acting so strangely these past few weeks"

I close my eyes briefly, trying to gather my thoughts. I should tell him how I feel. I will never have another opportunity like this to let him know. It could break the friendship that we have, and it would break Catherine if he ever told her, but I must let him know. I cannot hold on to this secret any longer.

I take a deep breath, "I find myself...what I mean to say..." I hesitate for only a second longer, "I find that I am in love with you"

Francis' eyes widen. The silence in the room is so heavy and stifling. I swallow the tears building in my throat.

"I understand" I murmur thickly, "I knew that you could never feel the same, but –"

Francis steps towards me and takes my hands. I stare up at him, shock plain on my face.

"I want you, too" he tells me. I begin to tremble, my heart throbbing against my ribcage. This is all I ever wanted.

He leans towards me and kisses me, gently at first, then more forcefully. I cling to him, winding my fingers through his hair, pressing myself against him like a common whore.

Even though both of us know it should not be happening, and certainly not like this, we are so desperate for each other that we cannot help it. I have lain with no man since I lost my maidenhead and am a little nervous, but this is soon forced away as Francis starts to tear away my gown, and I his clothing, and we are unstoppable, because there is no doubt in our minds that we both want this.

* * *

"_Oh, dear God!" George shrieked, "Make it go away!"_

"_What have you seen?" asked Elizabeth, amused. She had been playing a rhyming game with Thomas Wyatt, to help him with a new poem, and was not watching the mirror upon which George gazed with such horror._

"_Elizabeth! Come here, for goodness sake!" George pleaded, cowering away from the mirror._

_Elizabeth gave Thomas an apologetic smile and went over to join her lover. She looked in the mirror with frank curiosity._

"_Oh dear. Mary shall hang me for this. But Alice is happy, is she not? And I care about her happiness, I really do. So does Francis, by the looks of things. Oh my! Oh, I understand why she likes him. He is rather lovely when you see him with no clothes on. Oh my, I – "_

"_Elizabeth!" George bellowed, "Make it go away!"_

_Elizabeth sighed and the image of her daughter and Francis Knollys disappeared, "Spoilsport. Though when Alice does finally join us, I must have a word with her"_

"_You are thinking about what you will say to her upon her death after watching that?" George cried, "Oh, I feel ill. First Margaret, now Alice. I cannot watch my little girls doing such things, I really can't"_

_Elizabeth giggled, "Honestly, George, when did you get to be such a prude? No, I simply mean that she must have heard some of my conversations with Aurora. No-one else knows how to do that"_

"_How to do what? Actually, I don't want to know. I just want that image erased from my mind forever" George shuddered, "Please tell me you didn't teach her things"_

"_Well, of course I did" said Elizabeth, innocently surprised, "I wasn't going to leave her ignorant, was I?"_

"_Oh God" George groaned, burying his face in his hands, "I don't think I shall ever be able to look at either of my living daughters again"_

"_Elizabeth!" Mary yelled, marching towards them, her husband close behind her. Elizabeth groaned, not looking at her friend._

"_How did I know this was coming?" she mumbled, "Hello, Mary, darling"_

"_Don't you call me darling! I know what your daughter is doing right this second!"_

"_So do we, unfortunately" George muttered bitterly._

"_Mary, I cannot control or guide my daughter's actions. I said this very same thing to Anne just a little while ago. It is absolutely nothing to do with me" Elizabeth sighed._

"_Your daughter is behaving like a whore with my Catherine's husband! It is everything to do with you!"_

_Elizabeth rose from her seat, "And what do you mean by that?"_

"_I mean that she has obviously been taking lessons from her whore of a mother!"_

_Elizabeth gave a furious gasp and George glared at his sister, putting his arm protectively around Elizabeth._

"_Mary" he said warningly._

"_You're a fine one to talk!" Elizabeth shrieked, "You whored for King Francois, and then King Henry, and you left your own husband alone to die, and then you whored once again with your precious William, though at least you married him!"_

_William looked over at George and rolled his eyes at the sheer folly of women. George grinned ruefully back._

"_How very dare you!" Mary protested, "I was forced into those mistakes, all but the last, which I count as a blessing. But you, no-one forced you, did they? You were a very willing little slut!"_

"_Mary!" George cried, "Stop it at once. I shan't have you speak to her like that. And please don't get her into a temper, she takes forever to calm down"_

"_I am already in a temper!" Elizabeth roared, "How could you speak of me and my children like this! I was a whore for a love, a much more honourable thing than being a whore for riches and power"_

"_Ooh, this sounds fun. What happened?" asked Anne brightly, appearing from nowhere, it seemed._

"_My Alice is sleeping with Mary's Catherine's husband Francis" George explained with a sigh. Anne clapped her hands._

"_How exciting! Who is winning the fight?"_

"_Well, Mary just called Elizabeth a whore, but Elizabeth gave the most wonderful comeback, so I would say her at the moment" George decided thoughtfully. The two women had continued to scream at each other, unaware of what was going on around them._

"_Oh, good, that's what I wanted to hear" Anne said gleefully, "I don't like it when Mary wins. I love her, but sisterly rivalry never dies, you know"_

_William snorted, "Lovely sister, aren't you"_

"_The best" Anne replied sweetly._

_Before they could be restrained, Elizabeth and Mary had flown at each other. Elizabeth slapped Mary, hard, and Mary yanked on Elizabeth's hair, coming away with a handful of copper coloured strands. _

"_Stop it!" George and William chorused, breaking up the brawling women. As Elizabeth and Mary fought to regain their breath, held tightly by their lovers, they looked at each other._

_Elizabeth began to giggle, "Oh, Mary, I am sorry. Aren't we fools, to fight like this?"_

_Mary cracked a smile, but did not laugh, "You are not forgiven, Liz, and neither is your daughter" she cautioned. Elizabeth just grinned back._

"_That'll do for now" she agreed, half-laughing._

* * *

We lay together afterwards, in my narrow bed, trying to catch our breath. I am still in a daze of shock and pleasure and delight, but I manage to look at him and see the thoughtfulness on his face. I become sombre at once.

"This must not happen again" I say sadly, "That is what you are thinking, is it not?"

Francis looks at me forlornly, "It is indeed what I am thinking. But, Alice..."

"Don't say it" I plead, "This will be so much more difficult if you say it"

"Yet I must speak the truth. I still want you. And I fear that I, too, may be in love with you"

"Oh" I can't help giving a little sigh of contentment at those precious words. He moves closer to me, holds me in his arms.

"But still, it must not happen again" he murmurs into my hair.

"I know" I whisper. A tear rolls down my cheek.

"We would not want to hurt Catherine, or break up your friendship and my marriage" Francis adds, as if trying to convince himself.

"We must carry on as friends" I say, sniffling, "And pretend that this never happened"

"We must never do this again" Francis agrees. With that said, he gets up, swiftly, and begins to dress. I pull my shift on over my head, ready for sleep.

He is staring at me as I stand there.

"Do not forget, though, Alice, that I care for you as you do for me. And...you are a very beautiful lady. You will find someone else who loves you as I do, I am sure of it"

"Thank you" I say, and my voice cracks as I begin to sob. He holds me, kisses my forehead, and leaves.

I shut the door behind him. I am shaking all over, still weak from his touch, but I cannot bear to think of it anymore. I cannot bear to think of how wonderful it felt, to have him at last.

I climb into my bed and cry myself to sleep, his scent still lingering on the sheets.


	11. One Aurora for Another

**A/N: Hope you like this chapter, I'm a bit upset about writing part of it, but happy about writing the rest. Sorry Lex, but you'll be young forever this way! (Everyone who isn't Alexie is now probably really confused). Please read and review, all George and Elizabeth Heaven scenes will be in italics.**

"_Aurora doesn't look right to me..." Elizabeth mused, squinting at the mirror, showing her cousin and dearest friend stepping down from a carriage to greet her heavily pregnant daughter._

"_She looks perfectly cheerful from where I am sitting" George countered, rolling his eyes at Elizabeth's persistent habit of worrying. Elizabeth sighed._

"_I'm worried about her. She's been ill a lot since I died, you know that, and she doesn't seem to be getting much better"_

"_She shall be fine" George promised airily, "She was always the strong one"_

"_Anne was strong, and look what happened to her" Elizabeth mumbled glumly. _

"_Right, get up" George ordered, "You need to brighten up a little. Let us go and find Lisbeth"_

_Elizabeth, who was always excited to see her beloved though slightly unruly fourth child, followed him with an anxious frown on her face._

* * *

I enter the chapel with caution, hoping that there will be no-one left here, as the daily Mass finished over an hour ago. I need time to think about what has happened to me, about what I am going to do next.

It took a lot of effort to slip away from Aurora, who insisted that I stay with herself and Elena, as confinement is starting to drive Elena slightly mad. Instead I darted away and pushed Margaret in to take my place. I am not looking forward to seeing Aurora again later after that.

I tiptoe into a pew and bury my face in my hands, giving way to the sobs that I have been struggling to hide. Every time I see Francis I think of all that passed between us. I cannot erase the taste of his kisses from my lips, nor the sound of his wonderful words from my mind. Even though I know that our agreement was for the best, for everyone but us, I cannot help thinking about what would have happened if we had agreed to meet again instead. If I had agreed to become his mistress and he had loved me as he said he does ...

I shudder, trying to banish the thoughts from my mind. If I think about him I shall only weep once more, and I have only just managed to dry my tears.

I look up to the stained glass window, where the sunlight is tinted all the colours of the rainbow and falls on my tear-streaked face.

"Mama?" I say softly, "Papa?"

My voice rings clear and pleading in the empty chapel. I study the face of my Aunt Anne, painted onto the window that Elizabeth commissioned and designed not long ago. Once again my thoughts turn to my parents, and their doomed love.

"You always promised me that when I fell in love, I could be with that person, no matter what. You promised me that you would never inflict what the two of you went through onto me, onto any of us. Now look at me. Desperately in love with a man who is married to my dearest friend. Help me, Mama, Papa. I don't know what to do anymore"

I swallow back the tears building inside me, thinking about how my parents promised to love and protect me forever.

"And now you're not here" I sniffle loudly, "You are no longer here to do all the things you promised and I need you now. Papa taught me how to ride and hawk and dance and write poetry. Aunt Anne taught me how to be strong and brave. Mama taught me to do everything possible to please a man, taught me how to be beautiful. None of you taught me what to do when my heart is breaking and I'm in love with someone I shouldn't be"

I take a deep breath and force myself to stop. I murmur apologies to my mother and father, feeling guilty for blaming them for my own mistakes.

I rise from my seat, and for a moment I freeze, remembering all the advice that the people that have left me once gave me. Aunt Anne, telling me that nothing is greater or more rewarding than ambition. Aunt Anne, three years later, telling me that pride comes before a fall. Papa telling me that I should never attempt to unravel the mysteries of the male mind. Mama telling me how to tease and taunt and please any man, making me blush as she did so.

And all of them telling me that love has no boundaries.

So I wipe my eyes, hold my head high and force a smile onto my lips. I smile as if I have nothing to worry about, not a care in the world.

* * *

"Your brother is a bastard!"Elena shrieks, her nails digging into my palm as she pushes, "He is a cursed bastard and I swear to God he'll get no more children on me!"

I snort with laughter and she glares at me, then gives a bloodcurdling scream. Aurora fusses anxiously over her, wiping her daughter's forehead with a cool cloth and stroking her golden hair away from her flushed face.

"I can see the head, my Lady!" the midwife crows. Elena screams again, her body straining. I have decided that I no longer want children.

Margaret is sitting in a corner, chalky pale, being fanned by a maid. At the first drop of blood she swooned, and has not come any closer since.

"He is a bastard, actually" Margaret says suddenly, thoughtful, "You're right, Elena"

"Shut up!" Elena bellows. She draws out a long, lingering screech, and there is a disgusting slippery sound as the baby makes its way into the world.

Elena is gasping and sobbing with relief. The midwife is carefully checking the baby's breathing as it begins to wail for its mother.

"A girl" the midwife announces. Elena beams, Aurora gives a squeal of delight. Tears of happiness well in my eyes, for the first time in so many years. Even Margaret is smiling now, as the baby is handed over to Elena. I kiss both of them on the cheek and dart outside to where my brother is waiting, with the Careys and the Knollys and Eric. I do not look at Francis.

"You have a daughter" I tell my brother, "A beautiful daughter"

George looks stunned, sways on his feet for a moment, "And Elena?" he asks, anxious, "She is well?"

"She curses you, but yes, she is well" I smile.

"Thank God" George breathes, "Can I see them?"

Margaret darts out of the room, "Yes! You can take my place!" she rushes, to my surprise, over to Eric.

"That was awful" she complains to him, "When we are married you are getting no children from me!"

Eric just laughs, giving her a brief embrace. Margaret moves closer to him. I am shocked, and she sees it in my face. She gives me a little smile and a shrug, and I think that maybe Elizabeth's revenge was the best thing that ever happened to my sister.

I follow my brother into the room. Elena is crying silent tears of joy, while Aurora laughs fondly at her and wipes them gently away. George walks over to them in a daze, then hovers worriedly at the end of the bed.

"Are you going to hit me?" he asks sheepishly. Elena laughs loudly.

"No, never" she replies. Aurora climbs off of the bed and gives her place to George. He sits beside Elena and smiles down at the baby, putting his arm around his wife.

"What will you call her?" I ask, smiling at their domestic happiness.

They murmur together for a moment, and George nods, "We are going to call her Aurora" he says, smiling at 'Aunt' Aurora, "I thought I would save the name Elizabeth for you or Margaret to use on your daughters, Alice"

"Thank you" says Aurora, touched, "I must leave in the morning to tell your father, Elena"

"Thank you" I say tearfully. George knows how desperately I always wanted to call my daughter after my mother.

"You're welcome" Elena and George chorus, gazing down at their daughter. Aurora and I exchange a glance and slip away, leaving the small family to be smothered in other visitors.

As I leave, I dart a smile at Francis from under my hair, my eyes sparkling under my lashes. He sees me and freezes for a moment, though Catherine is dragging him in to see baby Aurora. I see the dark desire in his eyes, the longing in his slow, sensuous smile, before Catherine and Henry march him into the room.

Aurora is watching me thoughtfully. Her eyes dart from the crowd huddled in the doorway to me and back again.

"Alice" she says slowly, "Is there something you wish to tell me?"

I look at her, the woman who has always been like a second mother to me, who has half-filled the gap in my heart that my father's death caused, and I know that I can't bear to tell her that I have made my mother's mistakes.

"No" I say casually, walking past her and towards my room, "Nothing that I can think of"

* * *

We wave Aurora off the next day, giving her messages of love and messages also for her husband Thomas.

A week later, we receive news in the form of a tearstained letter written in Thomas' hand. It is addressed to all of us, but Eric opens it, thinking of it as just another letter from home. As he reads, his face becomes ashen and his hands begin to tremble. We all look at him; George, Margaret, Elena and I. Elena, still confined to her bed, clutches her daughter tightly to her breast.

"What?" she asks, her voice fearful, "Eric, what is it?"

"Mother is dead" Eric gasps, "Mother is dead"

Margaret gives an exclamation of horror and I a disbelieving cry. George rushes to Elena and puts his arms around her as she weeps tears into her daughter's dark blonde curls. I see tears glistening in his own eyes.

Eric has begun to weep and Margaret goes to him. She takes the letter gently from his hands and places it on a cabinet by Elena's bed. With tears rolling down her own face, Margaret reaches out to him and strokes the tears from his cheeks, leaning towards him to carefully kiss his lips. I smile through my tears at her surprising tenderness towards him. She is falling in love with him, and I thank God for it, but for now all I wish to do is weep for my loss, as I have done so many times before.

* * *

Hours later I sit alone, in an abandoned corridor, where row upon row of paintings hang. My Aunt Anne's portrait is there, and I try to gain courage from her steady dark eyes, but I simply cannot.

Francis walks towards me and holds out his hand. I take it and rise unsteadily from the floor.

"Catherine heard and told me to find you" he hesitates, "I am sorry, Alice"

I give him a tremulous smile and he leans towards me and lightly kisses me on my grimacing mouth.

"Come on" he says gently, "Let us go and find your family"

_

* * *

_

Elizabeth waited, tears of expectation filling her eyes, George, Anne and Mary beside her. Mary would not speak with her, but she could not miss this for the world. Lisbeth hovered behind them, eager to meet her mother's best friend.

_Aurora appeared. She was as young and stunning and beautiful as she had always been. She looked dazed and a little frightened, maybe slightly bereaved to be parted from her husband and children. She wore the green dress that she had made her debut in at court, and she had never looked prettier._

"_Rora!" Elizabeth couldn't help herself any longer; she ran towards her friend. Aurora beamed, her eyes filling up with tears too._

"_Liz!" she cried, "Oh God, why did you leave me? I missed you so much"_

"_I missed you too" Elizabeth sniffled, "Look who else is here, Rora"_

"_Mary!" Aurora cried, hugging her friend, "And...oh my goodness"_

"_Did you miss us too?" asked Anne with her alluring, all-knowing smile._

"_Of course" Aurora said, flinging her arms around Anne, "I even missed your goddamn ambition!"_

_Anne had to laugh, "Well, why wouldn't you, darling?"_

"_And George!" Aurora squealed, "Oh, it's wonderful that Elizabeth can be with you again. She was never right in the head after you left"_

"_Thanks, Rora" Elizabeth sighed, rolling her eyes, "And this is my daughter, Lisbeth"_

"_Your...what?" Aurora shrieked, "How?"_

"_The baby that I miscarried at Henry and Anne's wedding?" Elizabeth prompted, "The baby from Calais...?"_

"_Ugh" Lisbeth groaned, "I don't want to know where I was conceived, thank you very much"_

"_I could tell you the story, if you like" George offered, "I remember it very well"_

_Elizabeth giggled and grinned at him with Lisbeth groaned again._

"_That's disgusting" she huffed._

"_Ugh, I quite agree" Anne added crossly, "And please don't talk about my wedding. That really was a terrible mistake"_

_Aurora burst out laughing, "Oh, I really did miss you all!"_

"_We missed you too, sweetheart" Elizabeth said fondly, "More than anything"_


	12. A Game of Cards

**A/N: Hope you like this. I'm not sure yet, but this chapter alone may be considered M-RATED. All George and Elizabeth Heaven scenes will be in italics. Please read and review!**

"Something is going on" George muses, holding up a small scroll of parchment to the light, identical to the one I received earlier today.

"Does Elena have one?" I ask, studying the handwriting on the parchment. It is Elizabeth's own, so I suppose we should really be rather honoured.

"Of course" says George, looking affronted at the thought that his wife may not have been included, "What is a private gathering, anyway?"

"Maybe it is a celebration for Meg and Eric's wedding tomorrow" I suggest, "Or she maybe thinks that we all need cheering"

"I suppose" George agrees thoughtfully. He is lounging lazily across my bed, only to get away from his wailing daughter and exhausted wife. Despite Elena's consistent bad temper of late, he still seems so very fond of her.

"Have you been faithful to Elena, George?" I ask with interest. He nods solemnly.

"Mostly" he mumbles, a little warily. My face darkens instantly.

"What do you mean, mostly?" I snap.

"I regret it so now, Alice, really I do. But Elena was so angry and ferocious, the week before she bore Aurora, that I simply could not help feeling rather...unloved"

"That is simply no excuse! What is the matter with you? Who was she?"

"Laetitia Knollys" George mutters, his face furiously red. I give a shriek of outrage.

"Your cousin's daughter? How could you do that to poor Elena?"

"Please don't tell her, Alice" George begs, "I could never live with myself if she were to be upset"

I sigh, "Fine. But get out of my room"

He scrambles out of the door, looking relieved.

* * *

"_Your daughter has a rather disgusting mind" Aurora mused to Anne as they watched Elizabeth scrawl her own invitations in the mirror. _

"_She does not! She is simply being efficient – she is brightening the moods of her friends whilst celebrating your son's upcoming nuptials. It really is rather clever "Anne protested, "You must agree that my daughter is a great Queen"_

"_Yes, but not a great friend" Elizabeth mumbled, "This whole thing is going to be very awkward for Francis and Alice"_

"_Oh, what stupidity!" Anne huffed airily, flapping a hand, "Everything shall be just fine. Have you and Mary made up yet?"_

"_We had, until this morning when she called my daughter a shameless harlot, then proceeded to call me a filthy whore who corrupted her own children" Elizabeth sighed, "She and George are still arguing at this very moment"_

"_Are they?" Anne, as always, looked excited by the prospect of a fight, "Has Mary hit him yet? George would never hurt Mary, but Mary can be quite vicious, sometimes"_

"_Oh, hush, Anne" Elizabeth groaned, "Go and find your beloved Henry Percy"_

"_I think I might go and find my darling husband instead" Anne drawled, "I do so love to taunt him at least twice a day"_

"_But he isn't your husband anymore, Anne" Aurora frowned. Anne snorted._

"_Really? Because his excuse for annulling our marriage was pathetic. As far as I am aware, he never was married to that virgin hussy. Or that ugly German woman. Or my cousin. Or that nice lady who liked my reformation"_

"_Anne, don't be so cruel! You can insult Jane Seymour by any means, but Anne of Cleves was a nice woman and a good Queen" Elizabeth scolded. Anne yawned._

"_Honestly, you two are so dull sometimes. Let us hope your children are a bit more lively, else Elizabeth's games won't be any fun at all"_

* * *

"Do you have any idea what Bess is planning?" Margaret asks me anxiously. She has been gone all night and all day, and will only be gracing my rooms for ten minutes, until the clock strikes seven and we will head to Elizabeth's chambers.

"None at all" I say, my eyes narrowed as I study my sister's swollen lips, sparkling eyes and healthy glow, "Where have you been?"

"Out" says Margaret nonchalantly, "I have been outside for much of the day"

"And last night?"

She hesitates before the mirror where she is pinning up her hair, then turns to face me. A smile spreads across her lips and she comes towards where I am sitting on my bed and curls up beside me, gripping my hands. She reminds me for a moment of our mother, when she was young and frivolous and sparkling.

"Promise you shan't tell anyone?" she pleads, her eyes bright with excitement, "They shall all scold me if they find out, but you shan't, shall you? Please, Alice"

"I promise" I say, curiosity getting the better of me. Margaret giggles.

"I spent the night with Eric" she whispers. I gasp.

"Then you do love him! I was so sure you were beginning to fall for him, but I wanted to wait until the wedding to check! But Meg, could you not have waited another day? Your marriage is tomorrow!"

"We had planned to wait for our wedding night, but it just happened, Alice, honestly it did"

I remember what happened last time I was shut in a room with the man I love, and I don't blame her.

"He kissed me, you see" Margaret continues, "And it just...carried on from there. I am in love with him, I am!"

I hug her tightly, "That is wonderful, Meg"

"I know! We did not wake until late this morning, so we spent the day in the gardens here. Oh, they are lovely, Alice, have you been in the maze? We got terribly lost, I ended up with bracken all twisted in my hair! He picked me a lovely rose, and we sent it swimming down the Thames"

"It all sounds so perfect" I say wistfully. It hurts to see my sister looking at me with pity.

"I am sure you shall be married soon" she says, trying to be comforting. I shudder, but she has moved away from me to finish decorating her hair, and does not see.

"Come along, then" she says at last, "Let us find out what Elizabeth is up to"

* * *

We arrive in Elizabeth's room to be greeted by a fairly small company of people. Elizabeth herself is there, of course, with her 'dearest Robin'. George and Elena are there, and Eric, who comes straight over to Margaret and kisses her cheeks. Henry Carey is there – we have all missed him, he has been away for many months now. Catherine is there also, talking earnestly with her brother.

And Francis is there, beside his wife.

We stare at each other, and for just a moment I indulge myself with the sin of vanity. I imagine how I must look to him, with my black curls tumbling around my face, pale but scattered with freckles from the sunshine, and my lips plump and slightly parted, my eyes dark and dangerous with desire. I am wearing my favourite scarlet gown that once belonged to Mother, and Margaret says that it makes everyone in a room want to look at me. Francis is certainly proving her right, he can hardly take his eyes off of me.

I break the gaze first, my eyes darting around the room instead. It is lit with candles, which cast more shadows than they do light, and there is a circular table set up in the centre of the chamber. Sitting atop it is a pack of cards.

"How glad I am that you are all here!" Elizabeth trills, clapping her hands like a little girl, "Sir Robert has devised the most wonderful new game for us all to play, before Margaret and Eric's wedding tomorrow!"

"How do you play?" asks my brother with interest, the hardened gambler that he is.

"Take a seat and I shall explain" Sir Robert offers, as if he is the ruler, and not Elizabeth.

It takes him only a few moments to explain to us, and all but he and Elizabeth are dubious about this new game. It is a simple game of cards, quite normal, aside from the fact that if you lose a hand, you must take off an item of clothing.

I shoot Francis an anxious glance, and he too looks awkward. This could be potentially disastrous for both of us, I am sure. Margaret is looking at Eric in a way that seems far too suggestive to me. Elena is shaking her head.

"But Liz, I cannot!" she protests, "I have not long had my child, I do not want anyone to see me like this!"

I understand her worry – she showed me only the other day that she still has creases carved into her belly from when her body stretched to accommodate her daughter.

"You look beautiful to me" says George firmly, putting his arm around her. Elena gives me a despairing look and I wish that she knew that I am also in such a predicament.

We agree to give the game an hour, just to please Elizabeth, but none of us are very enthusiastic. Unfortunately, I happen to be the worst player at the table. My Father had tried to teach me cards as a child, and when I had failed to grasp the concept, he promised to teach me when I was older. That was before Henry cut off his head, of course. I have never understood a game of cards, or tried to, since then.

After half an hour I am sitting in only my shift, holding a terrible set of cards and hoping to bluff my way through the next half of the game. Margaret and Elena both have their shifts and skirts left, while all the men are shirtless, but not yet without breeches. Elizabeth has her corset, shift and skirts left, as does Catherine. They are possibly the best players at the table.

I can't help my eyes sliding towards Francis' bare chest, and I give a silent sigh of longing. I remember lying my head on his bare chest and weeping because I knew that we could not be together. I notice that he, too, is looking at me with wide eyes, and I know why, too. My shift is thin, and I may as well be naked, for if anyone were to look closely, as Francis is doing, they would be able to see everything.

I look over at Catherine and note with envy that despite her many children, her figure is much prettier than my own. Her breasts are full and push against her corset, and her body is full and curved, with wide hips and plump legs. I am petite and slim, unfortunately not inheriting my Mother's stunning curves. My breast are small and my corset has to be almost unbearably tight to force them to fit my gowns. My waist is narrow, and narrower still once my corset is tightened, and my hips are narrow too, the bones jutting out. Maybe that is why Francis loves me, because I am the complete opposite of his wife. Childbearing has not given me the faint creases that Elena now has, nor have the lines of age been sketched lightly at the corners of my eyes.

"Alice? Alice!" Elizabeth is waving a hand in front of my face, laughing, "You were away with the fairies then, I am sure of it! Put down your hand, will you?"

"After everyone else" I say steadily. Everyone begins to laugh, aside from Francis, who looks just as dazed as me.

"Everyone else has already laid out their cards! Come along, Alice!" Catherine chides. For a moment I want to hit her, then am shocked by my thoughts. Catherine is my friend and cousin, and very dear to me. I shake these violent thoughts from my mind, and, with a heavy sigh, lay down my cards.

There is another explosion of laughter at the weakness of my hand, and Elizabeth is smirking.

"Off with your shift then, Alice" she demands wickedly. I groan.

"Bess, no, please" I beg. She just smiles at me. I try to remember that I know all of these people well, and they will not laugh at me. But to do this in front of Francis...

I yank the shift off and over my head as quickly as possible, flinging it to the floor. I fold my arms firmly over my chest and grab my skirts to lay across the bottom half of my body.

"Surely I am out of the game now?" I whine.

"You are" says Sir Robert, "But your punishment is to stay like that until the game is over"

I shake my head fiercely, "Certainly not" I say with dignity, pulling my clothes back on. Everyone groans and huffs at me for being a spoilsport, but Francis is still staring at me with hungry eyes. I do not know what will happen if we carry on like this.

"Have fun" I say, then recall that I always get lost finding my way to my rooms here, and hover for a moment, awkward. Catherine catches on a gives a gentle laugh.

"Francis, my love, do escort Alice to her rooms. She always forgets where they are" she demands. Francis nods like a man in a trance and rises from his seat, pulling on his shirt, but leaving his doublet behind.

We walk in silence, not able to look at one another. He halts outside of my room.

"I cannot stay" he mumbles, "We agreed that we should not. And they will get suspicious if I am not back very soon"

"I understand" I agree softly, but my eyes are telling him that I most certainly do not. So quickly that I do not know how it happened, he has crushed me too him and is kissing me with such a passion and urgency that I can do nothing but kiss him in return and wish that he would stay with me.

He pulls away from me, "Have a good night" he says, as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened, and he walks away.

I nod, speechless.


	13. One Marriage Begins, Another Crumbles

**A/N: I really wanted to update this, so I am. I think I'm actually going to update Six Conquests next, because I'm getting back into it now. Anyway, hope you like it, thank you for the reviews, and please review this one!**

_George found Elizabeth sitting in front of their mirror, her knees tucked up under her chin, tears tumbling down her cheeks. At once he was full of concern, going straight to her. They had spent the whole night together, just being them, and her sudden departure had worried him. That was nothing compared to how worried he was at that moment._

"_Bess!" he exclaimed, going to her and wrapping his arms around her, holding her while she sobbed, "What is it?"_

_She pointed wordlessly to the mirror, her finger trembling. George looked curiously, and his own face fell as he spotted what his lover was seeing._

_Their youngest living daughter was twirling around her room, laughing, her hair dressed with pearls and wedding flowers, looking like an angel in her silver gown, a bouquet of roses in her clasped hands. He had never wanted to miss his daughters' wedding day._

"_Oh" he murmured, "Oh, Bess"_

"_I always swore that I would be there for her wedding!" Elizabeth snivelled, wiping her eyes, "I so wanted to be there, to watch her make her vows and mean them, and to see her dance with her husband afterwards, and to see her carrying his child. Alice, too. Even George, though it would have been different to be at his wedding. I wish we could be there"_

"_I know" said George, and he found tears rolling down his own face, "But at least you saw them grow up. You saw them turn into women, and you saw your son through childhood and through some of his adulthood too. Last time I saw the girls, they were still little girls, and George was just growing in your belly. You had more than I did, Bess, and they will be thinking of us"_

"_Can I join you?" Aurora appeared, and her voice was shaking too, "I want to see my son get married"_

_And so Elizabeth, still laying against George and wiping her eyes on his shirt, gripped her friend's hand. With rueful smiles they sat there, watching their children get married without them._

* * *

My sister comes to me in the early hours of the morning, when the sky is still pale pink and the sun has barely broken through the clouds. She hovers in the doorway in her nightgown, giving me a slow, tense smile. Moments later, she is in bed beside me, and we fall asleep hugging each other, like we did every night when we were children and we missed our parents.

We wake up only a few hours later, and Margaret is gazing at the ceiling above us, her face pale, as though she is ill, yet she looks so happy.

"Scared?" I ask. She nods.

"A little" she turns to face me, "I wish Mama and Papa were here"

"Me too" I say, "But you shall just have to settle for me today"

"There is no-one better" says Margaret, in a rare moment of tenderness, and she embraces me fiercely.

"Let's get you ready" I smile.

Elena is Margaret's maid of honour, as she is already married, but she will not arrive for another couple of hours or so, so my sister and I have some time alone to prepare her.

I order for a bath from the kitchens, heated with boiling hot water that makes Margaret flinch. She goes first, and I wash her beautiful hair with water, infused with a little lemon juice to give it a scent. As she begins to pick out her clothing, I use the water myself, and we walk around for a while in our robes, our long hair dripping, splashing each other with the water that is now cold.

I get into my dress first, as it does not matter as much, and make sure that I look acceptable in my best powder blue gown. Then I set about dressing my sister.

She puts on her shift and petticoats and stockings, and I lace her corset and stomacher as tightly as they will go. She is not satisfied until she can fit both hands around her waist and encircle it. I dress her in the stunning silver embroidered gown that she had fitted a few weeks ago. She looks unearthly in it, like an angel, or a spirit.

I pin up her hair so that only a few glossy curls fall away to frame her pretty face, then dress it with pearls and roses. I step back to appraise her, and she admires her reflection in the mirror, twirling in front of it.

"You look beautiful" I say with pride, "The perfect bride"

Margaret giggles, "I hope Eric appreciates it"

"You do love him, do you not?" I ask, suddenly anxious. But the smile that spreads across my baby sister's face could light up a whole palace, and I know that she is happy.

"More than I ever thought I could" she says dreamily. There is a knock at the door and Elena and George arrive.

"Father sent Eric a message" says Elena, handing Margaret her bridal bouquet, "He wants desperately to come but is still unwell and grieving over Mother" her voice cracks slightly then and I am pleased to see that my brother goes straight to her and holds her. She smiles at him, then at Margaret.

"Eric is very excited" she tells her smugly, "I have never seen him like this, he is so lovesick over you"

"I should hope so!" my sister replies immodestly, laughing, "Is it time?"

"Yes" George answers, taking her arm, "You look beautiful"

"Thank you" Margaret beams, kissing his cheek. I cannot help thinking that it is Papa that should be saying that to her, and I find myself close to tears yet again. I shake some sense into myself as we make our way to the chapel at Windsor.

* * *

The crowd gathered in the church are gossiping and chattering, their voices a low buzz of sound. Eric is waiting for his bride, and the priest announces us. Elena, as the maid of honour, goes ahead of me in her gown, identical to mine, and people smile to see her. She is so pretty and beloved – motherhood suits her well – and she glows like the sun.

I follow close behind, a smile planted onto my face as though it has always been there. I scan the crowd for him, upon which my smile becomes true. My grin is only for him, and I think that I must be becoming vain like Margaret is sometimes is, if all I do is make myself look beautiful to him.

I take my seat beside Elena very gracefully, and she cranes her neck to watch her husband and my baby sister arrive.

George is smiling proudly, Margaret's small hand tucked into the crook of his arm. I see, in that moment, how much my sister has grown.

Memories rush through my head, as I remember all that my sister and I have shared. I remember Mama and Papa lifting me up so that I could peer into her cradle and watch her chuckle in her sleep. I remember holding her for the first time, while Papa leaned anxiously over me. I remember the nights I spent sleeping on the floor of her nursery, unbeknownst to our governess and nurse. I remember her tears once Papa was taken from us, how she sat with the palfreys he had given us and wept for weeks on end, while I buried myself in my books and tried to forget what was happening. I remember how close we became, how we bonded even more upon the birth of George. I love her, I have always loved her and cared for her. She is like my daughter, sometimes, and sometimes my sister, sometimes my worst enemy. But I love her.

I find that I am crying silently, for the loss of my sister and for happiness that she is happy. She smiles to see me in such a state, which makes me laugh quietely. My brother sits between me and his wife and holds both of our hands.

Margaret and Eric cannot take their eyes from each other, and I see the frenzied happiness on Eric's face. He has loved her for as long as I can remember, though she never knew, and to see them together is almost miraculous.

As their lips touch, Elizabeth, forgetting her decorum, leaps up and claps her hands. I laugh and rise to join her – soon the whole chapel has followed her lead. Margaret is exhilarated, clutching Eric's hand, and we follow them and Elizabeth to the hall for the dancing and revels.

* * *

I get only one dance with Francis, and have to leave as soon as it is over. I noticed that George and Elena left early to spend some time with their daughter – in two days time little Aurora will be sent away to George and Elena's home in Lichfield with her nurse. I decide to make my way to their rooms – George can always make me laugh and Elena is a very relaxing person to be around.

As I near their bedchamber, however, I hear sobbing. It isn't Aurora, either. I freeze, and a maid come scuttling out of the room, shock on her face. I grab her arm and she gives a start.

"Mistress Alice!" she gasps, dipping a rather untidy curtsey as I am still holding on to her arm.

"What is going on?" I ask urgently, "You have to tell me, that is my sister-in-law crying in there!"

"The Master has been unfaithful to Mistress Elena" the maid whispered, eyes wide, "He said that he had something to tell her and then he told her that! She dismissed me" the maid sounded a little put out by this. I gulp.

"Oh God. Thank you, you may leave now"

She rushes away, probably to share her gossip, and I take a step closer to the open door. They are so engrossed in their arguing that they do not notice me.

Elena is kneeling on the floor with Aurora, but she is not looking at her daughter. She is staring at my brother with tears stumbling down her cheeks, her heart uncomprehending.

"How could you?" she whispers, horrified, "I love you"

He takes a step toward her, his face twisted with pain, "And I love you, more than anything. You mean the world to me and more, you and Aurora"

"Then why are you whoring?"

"I am not whoring, anymore. It was one time, whilst you were in your last week of carrying Aurora"

Elena's gasp catches in her throat. She rises from the ground.

"You lay with another woman while I was carrying your child?" she sobs harder, broken. George reaches out to her, but she pulls away.

"No!" she screams. The silence is so loud then. I have never heard Elena scream, and I am almost certain that my brother has not either, unless it is an entirely different sort of scream.

Aurora starts to cry and Elena sweeps the child into her arms, burying her face in Aurora's golden curls, fat tears falling onto the baby's head.

"Elena, please. I told you the truth because I love you and I could not stand the thought of hurting you"

"Please leave"

"But Elena, Aurora is leaving us in two days, I want to spend some time with her, and I have not finished talking to you – "

"I do not want to hear you talk. Please go. Please"

George looks at her desperately, and I see with surprise that he is weeping too. He opens his mouth to say something, then changes his mind. He leaves the room and halts when he sees me standing there.

"Help me" he pleads, a child again, with tears in his beautiful black eyes, looking like Papa.

"You brought it on yourself" I say, and it almost kills me to walk away from my baby brother.


	14. Ma Seule Maitresse

A/N: Sorry it's been a bit longer than usual, I'm SO looking forward to this chapter! Hope you like it, please read and review! All George and Elizabeth in Heaven scenes are in italics.

In those next few weeks, my brother became a completely changed man. With Margaret gone on her honeymoon, I had hoped to spend most of my time with him, but found him surprisingly unavailable. He was behaving like the most adorably lovesick young man – he behaved as a courtier would to his first and only love, to Elena.

She told me about all his antics, in the strictest confidence. She would not allow him into her bed, and he took this blow as though it were perfectly natural and acceptable. He wrote her poems and songs, and whenever Elizabeth requested someone to sing for the court in the evenings, he would sing these accompanied with only his lute, and he would gaze into Elena's eyes as he sang only for her. He would pick flowers and gather rose petals and creep into her room during the day when she was out riding or gossiping. Then he would arrange the flowers in the ewer which she would use to wash, and scatter the rose petals in the shallow bowl beside it. He would wrap up little sweetmeats and place them on her pillow. He was loving and attentive and perfect for Elena, and she was weakening.

Yet she would not take him back.

* * *

"_He's trying really hard, here!" George exclaimed in exasperation, "Why won't she take him back?"_

"_Because she loves him" Aurora and Elizabeth chorused. George frowned at them._

"_What? That doesn't make sense. If she loved him, she'd take him back" _

_Aurora sighed, "Good Heavens, no. I should hope I coached my daughter to do better than that"_

"_Exactly" Elizabeth agreed, "George, I know you were always going to take our son's side, but Elena is right to act as she is. George would only start whoring again if she did not teach him a lesson"_

"_No, he wouldn't!" George protested, "He loves Elena. I never whored again after I fell in love with you"_

"_But George never had your morals" Elizabeth replied with a rueful grin, "He didn't have anyone to teach them to him"_

* * *

"Come on, I want this to be perfect!" Elizabeth shrieks crossly, "We need to impress them! My Mother set much stores by the French"

I sigh, as do the others, and we start our dance again. In two days time, a group of French nobles and an ambassador will be visiting our court. Elizabeth is in a frenzy, and has written a masque especially for the visit. The four elements and Mother Nature will be represented in the masque, and will be shown to be lonely virgins with no semblance of love in their loves. They will then be rescued and conquered, as it seems, by five men of honour. It really is very simple and not particularly imaginative, but it should please the visitors.

I am to play Earth, because Elizabeth says I look well in green, and I suppose I do. Elena will play Water, as blue so suits her, makes her look like an angel. Catherine will be Air and Margaret, who returns that very morning, will play Fire. Elizabeth, of course, will play Mother Nature.

Then there are the men. Ah.

Elena will be paired with George, though she has argued against it with all her might. Yet every time she argues Elizabeth winks at me and insists that Elena obey her. Elizabeth will be paired with Robert Dudley, unsurprisingly. Margaret and Eric shall be paired.

And Catherine shall dance with Francis, while I am left with my cousin Henry Carey.

He twirls past me when we practise and he smiles longingly at me, and I spin past him to curtsey low in front of him and watch him moan with wanting. It is awful of me to tease him so when I feel just as he does, but it is the only way that I get through the day.

* * *

"Margaret!" I squeal, flying towards my sister as soon as she steps down from her carriage. I halt a mere metre away from her. She has changed in these few weeks, I can barely believe how different she looks.

She is slimmer, almost at my stature now. I highly doubt that she has been bothering to leave her bed for food. Her skin glows with love and happiness, and she does not stop smiling. Her lips are full, maybe a little swollen, her gown scarlet and vibrant, as though she wants everyone to look at her. That hasn't changed.

"Why do you look at me like that?" Margaret asks, a slight frown creasing her forehead, though she smiles still. I shake my head and fling my arms around her.

"You look so well!" I exclaim, "So happy! Did you have a nice trip?"

Margaret grins knowingly, "I had a wonderful time. Have you been well? What is all this in your letters about darling George? Is Elena speaking to him yet?"

"Not as yet" I sigh, "But I am sure it shall not be long now. I am well"

Eric steps down from the carriage and smiles at me, giving me a kiss on each cheek. He puts his arm around Margaret's waist and kisses her cheek also. She gives him a smile that hints at something more.

I link her arm, "Go on ahead, Eric. Meg and I have a lot to talk about. Elizabeth will be pleased to see you – she is far too worried that you will not be able to catch up with the masque in time"

"What do we have to discuss?" asks Margaret as Eric walks away, "We wrote letters"

"_I _wrote letters. You sent about three sentences in return. I want to know everything" I giggle, something I do not do particularly often, "What did you actually do?"

Margaret giggles too, "We did spend one day in a perfectly normal and sensible way. We went to see dear Uncle Thomas, and he's frightfully unwell, but Eric sent him his best physician, and we had a letter from him just days later telling us that he felt much better. Oh, you should see Eric's home, Alice! Elizabeth gave it to him, it's marvellous – not very big, yet very grand"

"How much of his lovely house did you see?" I ask, wiggling my eyebrows. Margaret smirks.

"Not very much. I was far too interested in him and his lovely bed. We shouldn't have eaten at all but for the cook, a lovely motherly woman who kept insisting on popping plates of food around the door. It was perfect, just what I wanted from my honeymoon. ..." Margaret sighs wistfully, "I do love him so, Alice"

"I am glad" I reply with feeling, embracing my sister fiercely, "Now, come along, we must get you ready for the masquerade!"

* * *

"Will she dance with me, do you think?" George asks me softly as we hover in the background, waiting for the beginning of the masque. I smile, glancing over at my sister-in-law, who wears an expression of haughtiness on her angelic face.

"I think so" I reply, "She will take you back today"

George's face lights up, "You are certain?"

"I am" I promise him, squeezing his hand, "I bid you good luck"

"And you, sweet sister" George beams, kissing my cheeks. I glance over at Francis as I slide on my sparkling golden mask, my dark eyes gleaming at him in the semi-darkness. He smiles back at me and I turn away as if I am not at all interested in him.

The masque passes so swiftly that it becomes a haze in my memory. My cousin Henry Carey sweeps me down from my tower and twirls with me up and down the hall, while I laugh with him, my hair flying wildly out around me and looking as common as a country girl.

The dance goes on for more than an hour, until Elizabeth lines us up in a row to unmask us. She sweeps off our masks, while the group of nobles applaud eagerly. One of them, tall and dark and really quite handsome, eyes me with an interest that I am not used to seeing. I give a startled little smile in return, which seems to please him, as he claps more enthusiastically.

Elizabeth unmasks last of all and is as delighted as her father used to be at the round of wild applause from the Frenchmen, and she curtsies prettily to them all before holding out her hand for them to kiss. As the dark man kneels to kiss her hand, he is looking at me. I blush and look away from him – I do not want his attentions.

I take a seat in the corner and watch with curiosity as Francis leaves the room. I wonder if he has seen me watching and is offering me an invitation, but push the thought away.

I give a sudden cry of delight as I spot my brother twirling Elena around the room. He is holding her close in his arms, his head inclined to hers, and he is whispering sweet nothings into her ear. She is smiling up at him, her eyes wet, her lips very close to his. As I am watching them, they kiss, and tears fall down Elena's face. I find that there is a silly smile of wild happiness on my own face, as I am so relieved to see them reconciled.

"My lady?"

The Frenchman who has had his eyes on me all evening is standing before me, bowing towards me, a thoughtful smile on his lips. I stare at him, shock plain on my face, and he laughs. His English accent is liquid smooth, only a hint of the French detectable.

"Sir?" I respond, a little anxious.

"Would you care to have a dance with me?"

I stare at him some more, still surprised, then nod slowly, "If you like, Sir"

We rise for the dance and as my brother catches my eye I shrug at him. The Frenchman holds me far too close. How I wish he was Francis.

"What is your name, fair lady?" he asks.

"Alice" I say shortly. I do not want to let him know the rest of my name – the entire continent knows the name Boleyn, and I do not want him to find me more appealing simply because of my name.

"Alice...?" he prompts. I sigh.

"Alice Boleyn-Smythe" I tell him. His eyes widen a little, but he does not comment.

"And you, Sir?" I ask out of politeness.

"Pierre" he says, offering no more information. I say nothing and we continue to dance.

He keeps me for hours, twirling around the dance floor quite unhappily, but unable to refuse him since he seems so nice. Finally, I jerk away from him.

"Please leave me alone" I say abruptly, walking hurriedly away and towards my rooms. He follows me, calling after me.

"Have I distressed you, Mistress Alice?" he calls urgently, "Mistress Alice!"

I panic, wanting desperately to get away from a man who seems so adoring of me. I take a short cut, not realising where I am going until I pause at Francis' door.

He sleeps in a separate room to Catherine, and goes to her bed only if he wishes it. I know that tonight he will be alone.

The door is not locked. Glancing around me, I open it.

Francis turns from his desk, obviously expecting to see either his wife or his daughter there. His eyes widen when he sees me and he rises from his seat.

"There is a French nobleman who seems to have taken to me" I explain awkwardly, "I wanted to get away"

Francis takes a step closer to me, "Did he hurt you?"

"No"

We fall into silence, until he, to my surprise, comes quickly toward me. He takes my hand and I give a little gasp.

"Francis, whatever are you doing?" I exclaim, my breath quickening.

"I love you" he tells me, "I love you so much and it has been agony for me not being able to be with you"

"Do you not love Catherine?" I ask.

"I do, but it is a very different love. I love her for bearing my children and standing by me, but you...I love you completely simply because you are you" Francis reaches out to caress my face and I pull away a little.

"You know how I feel" I whisper, "But we cannot do this, Francis"

"I cannot divorce my wife" he tells me, "Though I would if it were possible. Instead, I beg of you...could you not be my mistress? My only mistress, and you would always be safe in the knowledge that you are also the love of my life and no other could ever replace you"

I stagger a little, almost faint with delight, "We would have to be discreet" I say warily. He does not reply. He takes me in his arms and kisses me, and I know that this will not be hurried and desperate as last time was, but loving and wonderful, as we wanted it to be, and I will be with him all the night long.

**A/N: Sorry if this chapter seemed a bit...well, bitty! But I hope you still enjoyed it, please do review!**


	15. The Proposal

**A/N: Sorry it's been a bit longer than usual, hope you enjoy it, bit of a twist coming up! Please read and review!**

"I really should go" I say awkwardly, slipping out of the bed far too reluctantly. Francis opens his eyes lazily, then gives me an urgent and pleading look.

"No" he groans, reaching out to grab my ankle as I slide away, so that I fall out of the bed head first. I laugh loudly, rubbing my head.

"That _hurt"_ I whine, "And you know that I must go. The servants have only just awakened, and they shan't gossip or notice if I go quickly to my own room"

"Oh, damn the servants" Francis sighs, "Can we not pay them off?"

I snort, "All of them? You can do that, then. Heaven knows I am not exactly rich"

Francis grins, eyebrows raised, "You surprised me. I thought, being the Queen's cousin, that you would be rather well off"

I huff, "If only it were so. But I really must leave now, Francis"

"Alright..."Francis agrees reluctantly, climbing out of the bed also. For a moment we freeze, staring at one another, then turn away hastily to change. I do hope that none of the servants notice that I am wearing yesterday's gown, for that is what shall give me away.

We turn back to each other, and I wish that I did not have to say goodbye to him yet. Francis comes towards me and kisses me gently on the mouth.

"I will come to you tonight" he tells me, "Tonight and every night for the rest of our lives"

I smile, "I shall look forward to it tonight and every night for the rest of our lives"

He kisses me atop my wild curly hair and I leave, blowing him a kiss as I go.

As I walk, I cannot help smiling. I can taste his lips on my own, and smell him on my clothes, and feel his touch on my body. I feel like I am playing a game of the cards and holding them close to my chest – I am playing the game of courtly love and my secret is held fast against my heart. I keep my anxious eyes peeled for any serving men and women, especially any that I recognise, but the halls are still empty and mostly dark.

When I arrive at my room I burst into a cacophony of hysterical laughter, collapsing onto my bed with a smile that almost tears my cheeks apart, and I give way to giggles of delight. I am exhausted, but in such a way as I have never been exhausted before, and I hurriedly unlace my uncomfortable gown so that I can clamber into my bed and catch up on the sleep I have missed, dreaming dreams of him.

* * *

"_Oh, George, how I wish I could help her" Elizabeth fussed, "She must be ever so worried about what will happen if she is caught out, or if we would approve. She has such a delicate conscience, she always thinks – Will Mama and Papa approve? – I do worry about her so. I hope she is well"_

_George did not look at her, "You could always go and see her, Elizabeth"_

"_What?" Elizabeth exclaimed, "Dear God, can I make her see my ghost, as I once saw you?"_

"_You can" George agreed, "But for only a short time"_

"_Tell me" Elizabeth demanded, grabbing his hand, her nails digging into his palm, "Tell me at once"_

"_If we have made it to Heaven, where we are now, we may have three days in which to revisit the human world as a ghost. But we can only be seen by those whom we wish to see, and who wish to see us"_

"_This is perfect!" Elizabeth cried, "I shall dedicate a day to each of my children"_

"_It does not work that way. The three days may be spread out over the course of your period as a ghost, and at a time when you are needed and longed for. So for instance, you could visit Alice for only three minutes tomorrow, and still have many hours left to visit Margaret and George also, and Alice again"_

"_Really?" Elizabeth mused thoughtfully, "I like that idea so much better. Do you have any time left?"_

"_No" George replied forlornly, "I had used up all mine seeing you, and I finished it all just before Henry died, in 1547. My last minute was with you"_

_Elizabeth sighed, "Oh, thank you. But then...I imagined you? All the other times I saw you you were a figment of my imagination?"_

_George squirmed, embarrassed, "Well...yes, Bess, darling"_

"_Oh" Elizabeth looked shocked, "How...mortifying. Still, all that is over now, and I am with you. When can I go?"_

"_Whenever you like" George replied, "I shall show you what to do"_

"_I will go today" said Elizabeth decisively, "I will go today and help our daughter"_

* * *

"Mistress Alice! Mistress Alice!"

I wake to the anxious voice of a messenger banging on my chamber door. I groan, falling out of the bed and rubbing my eyes, yanking on a robe as I go.

"One moment" I call, splashing some water over my face and raking my fingers through my hair. I fling open the door.

"How can I help you?" I ask. It is the young man that once eyed me so fondly, looking awkward and holding out a message to me.

"Her Majesty wishes to have an audience with you at once. She says it is a most intriguing matter that must be dealt with immediately. Here is her note" he passed me a scrap of parchment. I scanned Elizabeth's messy, eager scrawl that she only used when she was in a great hurry.

_Alice, darling, do hurry up! I have some wonderful news for you about yesterday's masque, which must be discussed between us imperatively. Yours always, Elizabeth Regina._

I sigh, "Thank you. I would insist that you wait until I am dressed and ready to be presented to the Queen, and take me to her yourself"

"Of course, Madam" the messenger agrees with a sketchy bow. I smile endearingly at him and nod.

"Thank you" I repeat.

I close the door on him and hasten into my clothes. It is difficult to twist my arms back to lace my corset and stomacher, but I manage a little roughly, snatching a gown at random from my closet. It is yellow and vibrant, one of Mama's old gowns, so it is not of the latest fashion, but it suits me well and Elizabeth says it is much more flattering to me than the ruffled gowns that she is experimenting with lately. I step into it and do it up quickly. It gaps a little in front of my breasts, a fact that will have to be ignored, and I pin up my hair, placing a sweet little cap atop the scruffy bun, and am ready to go after splashing my neck with rosewater.

When I open the door the young messenger stares at me as if I am the most beautiful, awe-inspiring thing he has ever seen, which makes me smile. Francis looked at my similarly this morning, when I was recalling the whores tricks that my Mama had told me about many years before. I really do wish that I could thank her for those tips that were, at the time, so very embarrassing to me, but have now been greatly appreciated.

We walk in silence, and he walks into Elizabeth's receiving room before me, to announce me.

"Alice, at last! Do come in!" Elizabeth called. I walked past the messenger, my skirts swishing, and my cousin the Queen raced towards me to embrace me.

"Alice, you do look ever so lovely today, in that gown. Is it French?"

"Yes, your Majesty" I reply, grinning as I curtsey to her. She waves a hand, she is sparkling.

"We'll have none of that repetitive nonsense from my dearest cousin! Stand, for Heaven's sake, we have much to discuss" she takes my hand and leads me towards a chair.

"We do?" I frown, taking my seat. She climbs to her throne and fans her purple skirts out around her, looking at her most regal. This worries me. Her manner means that she has something to say that I will not like.

"Were you pleased with the masque?" I venture, worrying that I am to be berated for my performance.

"Oh, yes, yes!" Elizabeth exclaims brightly.

"Were the nobles and ambassadors pleased also?" I try again, worrying now that she will embarrass me over my conduct with the Frenchman Pierre.

"Yes, very much. In fact, that is what we are here to discuss"

My face wrinkles in confusion, "Really? Do tell, Bess"

She laughs loudly at my use of her nickname, "Well, you see, one of the nobles was more than impressed with your performance"

I groan, "Oh, Elizabeth, no. If you are hunting for gossip there is none. I gave that man no liberties whatsoever"

Elizabeth shrieks with laughter, "I think the fact that you gave him no liberties is partly the problem"

"You wish for me to have played the whore with him?" I cry in protest, more than a little hypocritically.

"No, Alice, no. The Frenchman that we are speaking of – Pierre Louis – wishes to hold an audience with you later today"

"An audience!" I explode, rising from my seat, "Certainly not. I shan't be his whore, you can tell him that in no uncertain terms without him needing an interview from me – "

"No, Alice, listen!" Elizabeth cries out, "Sit down!"

I sit.

"Pierre wishes to make a proposal to you" she says gently, "A proposal of marriage"

My face pales, "What?"

"Pierre wishes to have an audience with you to discuss the prospect of marriage"

"Bu- But there is no prospect!" I stammer, "I – I cannot marry him, I – "

"Please meet with him, Alice" said Elizabeth, her voice gentle, "He is willing to live here in England, as I told him I could not possibly let you go. I think that this will be good for you. Surely you cannot want to live as a maid, with no prospect of marriage nor thought of children? I have chosen that path, but you need not. Just meet with him, Alice. I am sure that you will find him very charming"

"No" I say firmly, "Elizabeth, I shall not"

"I didn't want to do this, but..." Elizabeth begins, her voice sing-song, "I am your Queen. And I therefore command you to meet with this Pierre, and meet him and discuss ideas with him with an open mind and a practical heart"

This is the first time Elizabeth has used her authority over me and I am furious.

"_Your Majesty_" I start with a sneer, "Please do not make me"

Elizabeth does not look offended. On the contrary, she is studying me with pity.

"I am doing this for your own good. You will be ready to receive him in your rooms within the hour"

"Very well, my _dearest_ Queen" I agree sourly, curtseying sullenly. Elizabeth smiles.

"Good day, Alice" she calls cheerily.

* * *

"Good day, Sir" I say coldly, opening the door to a beaming Pierre Louis. I try to look at him as though this is the first time we have met and I do not know why he is here, to re-evaluate my initial thoughts on him.

He is handsome, I suppose, though I have never had a fondness for fair-haired men. I much prefer men with dark hair, like Francis...

I push him to the back of my mind, a difficult task, and study Pierre again. He has murky green eyes that could, in some lights, be almost femalely pretty. He is well built, I suppose, and charming, and elegant. But he is not the man of my dreams.

"Take a seat" I offer grudgingly after he has kissed me on both cheeks, and on my hand.

"You are a little cold today, Mademoiselle Alice" Pierre observes.

"I am tired from the masque" I retort sharply.

"Somehow, I think it is less to do with the masque and more to do with my presence in your rooms that irks you" Pierre offers. I roll my eyes.

"Well done" I reply sarcastically. Pierre grins. I suppose his smile is rather nice.

"You know why I am here, I presume?" Pierre asks.

"You want to marry me" I say flatly, "I say no"

"Do you not want to hear my thoughts? I have a wonderful speech prepared" his eyes are twinkling. He finds my anger amusing! How dare he!

"If I must" I growl, "Though I doubt they will make any difference"

"I fell in love with you the moment I saw you emerge onto that stage" Pierre says, his voice soft, convincing, "I thought: that is a beautiful woman. I thought, that is the woman I am going to marry. I was so pleased when you agreed to dance with me. But I do think we got a little on the wrong foot when the dance had ended. But I still believe that I am destined to be with you and marry you, and wipe away that cynical smirk that you are wearing" he pauses, "Has that convinced you of my good intentions?"

I am shaken and flattered, but I will not show it, "All that you have shown me from that speech is that your English is impeccable"

Pierre snorts, "I am happy to agree to your terms"

"I would stay in England?" I ask nosily.

"Yes"

"I would keep my family name?"

Pierre looks a little taken aback, "Very well. You can be Mademoiselle Alice Boleyn Smythe Louis"

I am shocked into silence. I think he really loves me, and means what he is saying. All at once I find myself saying;

"Give me two days. I will think on it"

He smiles triumphantly, " I will eagerly await your answer" he agrees, kissing my hand, "Good day to you, my love"

I shut and lock the door behind him and sit down on a chair, breathing heavily.

What am I going to do?

I groan, burying my head in my hands, feeling a throbbing pain over my temples. As I am hidden in my hands I hear a laugh. I laugh I have not heard for a long time now, a sweet laugh, light like birdsong or bells.

Mama?

I look up, blinking as my eyes adjust to the room, which seems brighter after a while hiding behind the curtains of my hair.

My mother is standing in front of my, pale and shimmering as though she is barely there, but with the comforting smile on her face that I so miss.

I rub my eyes furiously.

"Mama?" I whisper, "Mama, is it really you?"

She just smiles, nods slightly. She cannot speak, I realise.

"I am sorry to have disappointed you and Papa so, Mama. I love Francis, and I cannot help being a whore to someone I love, and I do not love Pierre, so I am being thoroughly unpleasant to him, I know, but I am so sorry"

Mama shakes her head, looking pained and unhappy. I realise that she is telling me that she and Papa are not disappointed.

"You are with Papa now" I say, smiling. She nods.

"I miss you" I say, "Please guide me to do the right thing"

She nods again, a nod that means _I will try._

I rise from my seat and go towards her, stopping a few paces away.

"I will do what is right" I tell her, fighting back tears, "I promise, Mama, I will do what is right by you"

She smiles and disappears.

As she goes I feel a faint pressure on my hand, and tears spill down my cheeks, before she leaves completely.

"But is the right thing?" I ask the empty room with a heavy sigh.

I sit down and wait for Francis to come.


	16. Decisions

**A/N: Hope you like this, sorry it's been a while again. Please read and review!**

"He wants to marry you?" Francis exclaims furiously. I blush.

"Apparently so"

"What did you say?" he asks, slightly aggressively.

"I told him that I would think on it. The thing is, Francis, even if I say no, Elizabeth will find someone for me, probably someone even worse, and then I will have to marry him. Yet I confess that I do quite dislike this Pierre, and have no wish to marry him. I do not know what to do" I explain. Francis sags with relief.

"I suppose it is your decision" he says eventually, "I will still love you whatever you choose"

"I should hope so" I retort with a little smile, "You had really better leave soon"

It is just beginning to get light, and we have been together for hours. Francis groans as he did when I tried to leave him yesterday, and grabs me about the waist to pull me closer. I smirk and lean closer to kiss just under his ear, biting the tender skin there. He moans loudly and tries to pull me on top of him, but I shove him away.

"No!" I squeal, trying to sound firm, "You must go, really!"

Francis sighs noisily, "Fine. You are so cruel to me"

I laugh and watch him as he climbs out of the bed to put on his clothing. He leans down to kiss me fiercely, and I wind my arms around his neck in an embrace.

"Goodnight, my love" he says gently, caressing my face before leaving. I snuggle down under the bedclothes and smile to myself for a moment, before I remember that I need help.

And there are only two people left that can help me.

* * *

"What is it that you need help with?" asks my brother with concern. I have asked him and Margaret to come to my chamber, and I am planning to tell them everything. I only hope that they do not hate me for it.

"Yes, I wondered about it too" Meg says worriedly, "It is always us that come to you"

"I really need you both to be understanding" I say urgently, "I really need you to try and help me and not judge me for what I am doing"

"Now I'm scared" says George jokingly, exchanging a glance with Meg.

"I am having an affair with a man of the court" I tell them. This startles them both – Meg gives a gasp of horror.

"Who?" George growls, "I know that I am younger than you, but I shall still kill him for taking advantage of you"

I laugh, maybe a little edgily, "Please don't. I love him, and he is very much in love with me"

"He is married?" Margaret inquires, still looking shocked.

"Yes" I say, not looking at them, "You know him well"

"I did think it might be Henry Weston – I did tell you that the two of you would suit – but he is not married, is he?" Meg muses. I roll my eyes.

"No, it is not Henry Weston. And to my knowledge he is still a bachelor"

"Is it Henry Carey? Because he is rather too closely related to us for my liking" George asks worriedly, "Actually, is he married?"

"Yes! For Heaven's sake, he has children! And you have met his wife!" I cry, exasperated, "Be sensible, will you?"

"Don't you snap at us" George huffs, a little taken aback.

"Sorry" I groan, "I worry about telling you. You may be angry with me. But you must keep it a complete secret. Do you swear?"

"Yes" they chorus. I eye them suspiciously.

"Alright" I say grudgingly, with a little gulp, "It is Francis Knollys"

There is complete silence in the room for a few moments. George has gone very pale. Margaret leaps from her seat and paces up and down the room, frowning.

"But he is Catherine's husband! Our cousin and good friend Catherine's husband! They have a family together"

"Fifteen children" adds George admiringly, though his voice is flat.

"I know" I whisper, "But I cannot help it. I love him so, and he loves me too, I promise"

"Oh, Alice" George sighs, shaking his head, "When did all of this begin?"

I blush, "We first lay together a few months ago, and revealed our feelings, but agreed not to act on them again. Yet just the day before yesterday we agreed that we could not be without one another"

"Why are you telling us this?" asks Margaret shrilly, "I am not sure that I want this knowledge on my conscience!"

"Because I have not yet finished" I say crossly, "This is not the reason that I need your help. Francis and I are very happy together and plan to continue our affair"

"Good God, what else can they be?" Margaret asks despairingly, sinking back into her chair, colour slowing reappearing in her cheeks.

"At the masque there was a Frenchman named Pierre who danced with me for many hours before I ran away. Do you recall?"

"No" says George, looking bemused, "I was being reacquainted with my wife. Why do you think I look so tired?"

Margaret and I grimace.

"I think I remember, almost" says Margaret thoughtfully, "But what does all this have to do with him? Heavens, you are not whoring for him too, I hope"

"No!" I protest, "No. But yesterday, he proposed marriage to me"

There is another heavy silence.

"And we are to have you leave England? Out of the question" says Margaret sternly.

"What did you say to him?" asks George.

"I must give him my answer today. I would be allowed to stay in England with him, and keep my maiden name" I take a deep breath, "Francis understands that I must make a practical decision, and it will not affect us. But I do not know what to do"

"May I be crude?" George asks. I sigh.

"I suppose" I agree, "If you must"

"Marry him" George says firmly, "If you should fall pregnant, you can pass it off as his child"

"George!" Margaret gasps, as if she is the most virtuous woman and the idea scandalises her.

"He is right" I say, the answer dawning on me with George's help, "Mother always said that we should endeavour to make sure that our children are not bastards. I do not want them to have to fight for their rights as we have had too. Why, if Elizabeth had not sworn to favour us, we would still be in poverty"

"Exactly" says George proudly. Margaret sighs heavily.

"Alright" she agrees reluctantly, "You are both right. But I still think that I should not have been told of this"

"You would have complained if you had not been told!" I retort, once more exasperated.

"Yes, I suppose. But I do have a tendency to blurt out the most terrible secretive things when Er-" she stops, blushing bright red. I smirk.

"When what, Meg?" I ask, nosily. George covers his ears. Margaret goes a little redder.

"When Eric and I are being...intimate"

I can't help snorting with laughter at her embarrassment, and George's shoulders are shaking. Suddenly all three of us are sent into gales of laughter, like mad people in an asylum.

* * *

"It is nice to see you, Mademoiselle Alice" says Pierre gently, "Have you considered my offer?"

We are meeting in Elizabeth's receiving chamber, so that she can agree to the final decision. I take a seat opposite.

"As long as you keep to your promises, I accept" I tell him reluctantly. He beams, and I feel rather flattered, though I am not smiling invitingly at him, as he would hope.

"I am deeply grateful for and honoured by your agreement" says Pierre gallantly and sincerely, kissing my hand. I rise from my seat.

"You may discuss details of the nuptials with her Majesty" I say, throwing Elizabeth a stern glare. She just smiles blithely back.

"Indeed" she nods eagerly, "Monsieur Pierre and I shall talk"

I leave the room with a rather heavy heart.

**A/N: PLEASE REVIEW! :) **


	17. Reluctant Matrimony

**A/N: Sorry! Life is far too hectic nowadays, and I've just heard something that's kind of upset me and pissed me off at the same time, so I thought I'd distract myself by writing this. It's Alice's wedding day ****! Please read and review!**

I wake up to a terrible racket and groan, burying my head in my pillows. I do not want to get up, I don't want to get married! I want to stay free and be with Francis when I can. I want to wait for Catherine to die so that I can have him.

Heavens, I shall pretend that I did not just think that.

"Go away" I moan loudly, "Leave me alone. I'll get married tomorrow instead"

"Don't be stupid" scolds Margaret from the other side of the door.

"Come on, Alice...I've bought your niece to see you" says Elena persuasively. This sends me leaping from the bed. Little Aurora is two now, but I have not seen her since she was sent away from court to her own little manor in Lichfield, and I am longing to see her once more.

I fling open the door, causing Margaret and Elena to grin triumphantly. Elena is holding her little daughter on her hip. They are all dressed in their finery, the dusky pink gowns that I picked out for them, and are holding little baskets of pink roses. Aurora is holding nothing, though she is dressed similarly, and she is pulling insistently on her mother's pretty blonde ringlets.

She is the most darling little girl. This is why I am getting married – so that I can have happy, healthy, beautiful, legitimate children just like her. She has the delicate blonde curls of her mother, but the dark eyes of her father and grandfather before him. Our eyes match as they lock on each other – she beams, her small teeth looking a little too big for her tiny rosebud mouth. She has grown her hair to her shoulders, and Elena already has her dressed in full gowns. They suit her – she will be absolutely stunning when she is fully grown. I smile gently at her.

"Hello, Aurora" I say to her, gripping onto her chubby little hand, "Do you remember your Auntie Alice?"

She nods solemnly, though she cannot possibly recall the few days that I got to spend with her when she was very young. I suppose that she has been coached into being polite.

"Enough of that!" says Margaret bossily, pushing past Elena and Aurora and forcing her way into the room, "Let us get you dressed"

* * *

"_But why can I not go?" Elizabeth asked crossly, scowling at George, "I could take Lisbeth along, it would be fun! You want to go, don't you, Lisbeth?"_

"_Of course!" Lisbeth agreed, "Please, Papa"_

_The three of them were seated in front of their mirror, watching Alice prepare for her wedding. Lisbeth had wanted to bring Francis along too, but George had still staunchly refused. He had not gotten over what he saw as Francis' betrayal._

"_You can only go when you are needed" George sighed, not really in the mood for one of Elizabeth's tempers, however much he secretly enjoyed them, "You can only go to them when they are desperately in need of your help or your advice. Why do you think I got to come to you so often? It was because you needed me"_

"_It's a stupid rule" Elizabeth huffed, but a few moments later she had leaned back into George and was allowing him to hold her. Lisbeth reached out and held her hand._

"_May I join you?" Aurora asked, beaming, "I would so love to see Alice's wedding"_

"_Of course" Elizabeth agreed. Aurora sat beside Lisbeth and the pretty teenager turned to her._

"_What is everyone else doing today?" she asked eagerly._

"_Mary is having a tantrum about this whole affair, but she admitted that she is hoping that Alice will call off the affair in favour of her new husband. Anne and Henry Percy have organised a feast to celebrate Alice's wedding, though it seems that they are the only ones attending"_

"Were_ the only ones attending" Anne corrected, coming up behind them and taking a seat beside her brother, "But Harry feels like taunting Henry again, which I have no objection to, so I thought that I might actually watch my niece's wedding. I did always rather like Alice"_

"_I should hope you did!" Elizabeth cried, quite offended, "You are related to her, after all"_

"_Shut up, both of you" George ordered sternly, "Look at Alice"_

_Elizabeth gasped and clapped her hands – even Anne whistled admiringly._

"_She looks like an angel" said Elizabeth tearfully, "She looks beautiful"_

* * *

I stare at myself in the full length mirror. Margaret and Elena are hovering eagerly behind me, waiting for my approval. Aurora is standing next to me, wobbling a little.

"Is that me?" I frown. Margaret giggles and Elena grins.

I have never thought of myself as stunning -well, until now.

My black hair is glossy, full of its' natural curls, piled up on top of my head and threaded through with tiny pearls and what look to be pieces of gold. My gown is cloth of gold, only the most expensive, cut low to show an indecent amount of cleavage. Mama's locket with the portraits inside that I never take off rests solidly over my collarbone. Elena and Margaret have powdered my face a little, and given me some oils for my lips to make them look red. I lift my skirts just above my ankles to admire the dainty gold silk slippers that were made for me.

"Princess" Aurora insists, tugging on my skirts and smiling up at me. I laugh and stoop down to kiss her forehead. She giggles and hands me my bouquet.

"It's time, Alice" says Margaret, and for the first time this morning her voice is gentle, because she knows that I do not want this.

My brother appears in the corridor closest to the chapel. He smiles sympathetically at me, before spotting his daughter. He stoops down and sweeps her up into his arms, kissing her round little face. She giggles.

"Papa!" she shrieks loudly.

My eyes tear up then – my Papa once acted like that with me. I see now that George, never having had a father himself, is determined to be the best that he can be with his own child.

Eric, Catherine, Henry and my darling Francis appear to wish me luck. When Catherine embraces me I go rather pale – Margaret's glare is absolutely ferocious. George hands Aurora over to her Uncle Eric. Henry hugs and kisses me, wishing me luck with his typical joviality. Francis comes towards me.

As he embraces me, he leans closer to whisper is my ear.

"You look beautiful" he murmurs. I smile at him as he pulls away. We stare at each other for what is maybe a moment too long, before George coughs loudly. They all leave and enter the chapel without me, waving eagerly.

George takes my arm. Margaret and Elena are behind me. Margaret is going to carry my train, while Elena scatters rose petals behind me.

"Are you ready, sister?" George asks me gently. I gulp, give a firm nod as if I am reassuring myself.

"Yes" I squeak. The music from the organ begins.

There are collective gasps around the room as I enter. I blush a little, not sure if I like all of the attention. Pierre is gazing at me with devotion. That alone makes me want to run away screaming.

Elizabeth waves manically at me from her private pew, and I give a shy little wave in return. Everyone mutters about what a favourite I am with the Queen. I feel a little better.

The service drags, it could not go any slower.

Pierre seems triumphant after we have kissed, whilst I am left blushing and awkward.

Heaven knows what I am going to do when they put us to bed.

* * *

I slip out of my bed. It is very late, but I cannot sleep.

I feel guilty. I wish I could love him.

He loves me so much. I could see it in eyes, feel it in his kisses and his touch. But everything lacks what I have with Francis – the passion, the unswerving love. I cannot love him because he is not what I want - because I have found someone better.

I shiver, my thin nightgown providing very little warmth.

This is the night that I will do it.

The box that I picked up after my Mother's death, the beautiful oak one, with my parent's name written in parchment upon it, remains unopened. I have told no-one about it, and was saving it for a time when I would feel that I needed a part of my parents with me.

There is no time better than now.

I pull out the little trunk from its' hiding place and very carefully prise it open. It is absolutely full to the brim with memories.

The top half of the box is crammed full with letters. There must be hundreds of them, maybe even a thousand of them – some are labelled George, some Elizabeth. She kept every letter he ever wrote to her, and must have found that he had done the same and stolen them back after his death.

I pick them up carefully, and put them to one side – I shall read them last. Pierre snorts in his sleep, stirs, and I stand up at once, ready to create an excuse, but he does not wake. I sit back on the floor.

There is a beautiful golden mask, which I remember Mama telling me about – she wore it during the Chateau Vert, her first court masquerade. There is another mask beside it, this one also golden, but with towering red feathers - I can barely believe that it fit into the box.

There is a great seal, and masses of jewellery that Papa must have given Mama. There are other things, too. There are tiny little curls of hair – one black, one red – that must have been mine and Margaret's when we were babes. I assume that Mama stopped filling up the box when Papa died – hence why she will not have anything to do with my brother George in here.

There are off cuts from our christening gowns, a dead poppy that is presumably from Hever's old poppy field, two fabric ragdolls, a man and a woman, splendidly dressed.

Then there are sketches. Dozens of them, done on tiny scraps of paper. Mama was a very talented artist, Papa always used to say, but I have never seen any of her work before.

There are sketches of Papa – laughing, smiling, scowling – none of them posed, all from her memory. There is one sketch of him that makes me blush – I quickly fold it up and put it away. There are sketches of her, though not very many of them , but they really are a wonderful likeness. There is a drawing of Hever, of the big cedar tree there. There are drawings of me and Margaret – some when we are babies, some as we grow. There are pictures of our palfreys and Papa's stallion Quill.

I find that I am crying a little, though silently, at these sad reminders. There is a picture of Aunt Mary, looking rather shy, and Aunt Aurora too. Then there are pictures of Aunt Anne – in her coronation gown, with the sceptre in her hand and the crown on her head, dancing in a mask with towering feathers like Mama's, cradling a baby that must be Elizabeth. I ignore the pictures at the very bottom of the trunk, as these make me blush all the more furiously, and show both of my parents. I shudder too, making myself laugh a little. I go to put everything back in, shaking out a piece of material at the bottom that turns out to be a beautiful ivory chemise with embroidery.

An envelope flutters out. It is addressed to my Mama, but this one is different to the others. There are bloody fingerprints and little watermarks that look like tearstains. This is not the high-quality parchment of the other letters but something older and grubbier. Father's writing is messy and urgent.

His last letter.

I knew that he must have written her one – why, Margaret and I both had one, as well as others. But she had never mentioned it , and I had never seen it.

I gulp, opening up the letter with shaking hands. I know I should not read it, but I cannot help myself.

_Elizabeth,_

_I have told you so many times before that words cannot describe how I feel about you, and that is still true. But still, I feel that I must thank you for all that you have done for me. For being my friend and companion as a child. For being my mistress. For giving me the two most beautiful children ever put on God's Earth. For listening to my woes and ignoring my rages. For making me laugh and making me weep. For every song and every dance. For every kiss and every night. For loving me as I have always loved you._

_Never forget me, Elizabeth, my love, or what we have had. I will be here, waiting, waiting for you. _

_Yours for eternity,_

_George_

I start to cry harder, clutching the letter to my chest.

"Oh Mama" I murmur, "Oh Papa. I do miss you so"

**A/N: Hope you liked it, I kind of feel a bit depressed now though! Please review!**


	18. Robert Dudley's Secret

**A/N: Sorry! I've been ill all week and I'm still pretty bad now, but I couldn't leave it any longer! Please read and review, thank you for all the previous!**

"_Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" Anne came rushing towards her friend and her brother, scowling furiously._

"_What is the matter with you?" George frowned, "Could you be a little quieter, please? I've got such a headache"_

_Anne rolled her eyes, "And I know why, too. I bet they can hear the two of you the other side of Heaven"_

"_Anne!" George cried in protest._

"_Don't!" Elizabeth squeaked, blushing outrageously. _

_Anne snorted, "Oh, honestly, do stop being so prudish. I have discovered something that will greatly distress my daughter when she hears of it, which she will surely soon do"_

"_We can do nothing about it, I presume?" Elizabeth queried, concerned, the colour fading from her cheeks._

"_No" Anne sighed, exasperated, "But if I could, I would murder Robert Dudley"_

"_Why?" George frowned, "Dear God, what has he done? He's not at it with my little Meg again, is he, because if he is I'll gladly help you?"_

_Elizabeth huffed loudly, "George, Meg wouldn't do that"_

"_No, it's nothing like that" Anne sighed once again._

"_What is it?" Elizabeth demanded, "Come on, Anne, you must tell us now"_

_Anne turned away from them, a look of heavy sadness in her dark eyes, "You'll see"_

* * *

"What are we doing here?" Pierre asks me curiously. We have not been married for very long and he has not yet become used to the English court customs, so I have been explaining almost everything to him. And avoiding his bed, of course, though I do feel a little bad about it.

"The Queen is greeting Sir William Mourney. He has been on a trip around the country, reviewing the armies and the people in the towns and the ships and suchlike. She and Cecil have a lot of faith in him, I have heard" I explain quietely, "Not everyone is here, it is not a compulsory thing, but I do like to watch...but you can go, if you like?"

Pierre ignores my obvious attempt to get rid of him with a sad, understanding smile, "I am fine here, if you wish to be here"

I sigh inwardly. I can see Francis standing nearby, and I would love to push past his irritating slut of a daughter and join him.

Sir William enters the room. Not many of the court are here, just a few of Elizabeth's intimates and favourites, and some people who want to gain her favour.

"Sir William!" says Elizabeth gaily, "How lovely it is to see you" she holds out her hand for him to kiss, and there is no way that he could refuse. He bows gallantly to her and kisses her hand. Sir Robert hovers close by her, watching, lest Sir William become too familiar with the Queen, whom he considers his.

"Your Majesty, it is more lovely than anyone could believe for me to see you" Sir William replies. I see my brother roll his eyes at the courtly behaviour that our father was so good at, and giggle to myself.

"How sweet" says Elizabeth, but she looks as though she, too, finds such talk quite ridiculous, "How was your journey? I hope that you received much good hospitality along the way"

"Oh yes, Your Majesty, I have met many subjects who are a credit to your good self. In fact, I had the most wonderful stay recently with – " Sir William hesitates. His eyes dart from Elizabeth to Robert Dudley, whose eyes are narrowed in a combination of fear and menace.

"Yes, Sir William? Whom were you with?" Elizabeth has noticed his darting eyes and looks suspicious.

"I spent a week with Lady Dudley, your Majesty" Sir William's voice is so quiet in the hushed room that we are all straining to hear him. My eyes widen. Margaret moves a little closer to Eric, and George and Elena do the same. Francis' eyes fix on me and we both frown in confusion. Laetitia notices and scowls at the fact that she is getting so little attention.

"Lady Dudley?" Elizabeth is frowning – she has not understood, "Is this Sir Robert's mother, or his sister? If so it is a shame that I have not met them" she glances to Robert. He cannot look at her, he is too busy glaring at Sir William.

"No, your Majesty" Sir William mumbles, looking absolutely mortified, "Lady Dudley is Sir Robert's wife"

The room falls completely silent after a chorus of horrified gasps. Elizabeth goes very pale, her eyes very dark. She looks to Sir Robert. Everyone can see the hurt in her eyes.

Robert takes a step toward her, "Bessie, my darling, my love, I – "

Elizabeth rises from her seat. She has never looked more regal.

"I am _not _your love" she hisses, her voice icy cold. She says nothing to any of us, but storms from the room. We are all frozen. Then people begin to whisper and murmur.

"What has happened?" Pierre asks, bemused. I cannot answer him, I am too surprised. Kat Ashley comes hurrying towards me.

"Her Majesty is asking for you" she tells me, breathless. I frown.

"Not Catherine?" I squeak in shock, glancing towards my cousin and rival, who has always been Elizabeth's closest friend.

Kat shakes her head, "No, she is adamant that you must come, and no other. She is in her chamber"

I have not been to Elizabeth's chamber since that unfortunate game of cards, and take a little too long to find it. When I enter, she is sitting by the window, her beautiful, extravagant gown creased underneath her tucked-up legs. She is crying, silently but desperately, her eyes red. I forget that she is the Queen of England and much higher than me, and I think only of the fact that she is an orphan like me and she is of my blood, and I rush to her and fling my arms around her in a warm, sisterly embrace.

"Oh, Elizabeth!" I cry, and for a moment I think that she might be angry with me for treating her in such a casual way. But then a realise that what she really needs is someone who does not treat her so regally and so distantly – that is why she is always so close with me and my siblings and Catherine and Henry.

"Alice" Elizabeth sobs onto my shoulder, "Oh, how terrible. I, the Queen of England, to be crying over a mere knight! But he has my heart, Alice, he has my heart!"

I want so badly to tell her that I do truly understand, that a man other than my husband has my heart, but I cannot. She would be forced to banish me, my husband would claim a divorce, I would be ruined, I would not have the children I so long for.

"I know, I know" I say gently, holding her tightly, like I held Meg and George when they were little.

"His wife's name is Amy" says Elizabeth, "Kat told me. She knew, but she could not bring herself to tell me"

"Are you angry with her?" I ask warily.

"No, no" Elizabeth laughs away the suggestion at once, "Kat is like a mother to me, and I know she wants only the best for me. But I just wish I had discovered it sooner. His wife is called Amy, and apparently she is very beautiful, and everything that I am not. She is quiet and polite and obedient and shy and pale and insipid and _blonde_"

I can't help laughing weakly, "Oh, but Elizabeth, that is probably why he likes you so"

"But he does not like me very much, and he cannot possibly love me. Else he would have divorced his wife and been only with me" Elizabeth gulps loudly, pulling away from me. She rubs her eyes and I watch in silence, sitting beside her.

"Did you...give yourself to him?" I can't help asking it. The whole court has wanted to know for so long now, and I have wanted to know for so long now, that I cannot miss the opportunity to find out.

"Yes" Elizabeth does not sound ashamed, but she does not sound entirely happy either. I embrace her once again.

"Oh dear" I say gently, "But I am sure that it will all come right. I will help you, we will all help you"

"You might" Elizabeth agrees, snivelling, "But the rest of the court will laugh at me and call me a lovesick fool"

"Never" I said, with a little smile, "And anyway, if they do, you can just use your father's favourite method"

"What's that?" Elizabeth frowns.

"Chop off their heads" I say with a tentative grin, and even though it is not really very funny, and would normally make us both a little upset, we both laugh loudly, until we are both crying together.


	19. Wonderful News

**A/N: Sorry everybody! I know it's been a while, but as I said before, I have had a busy time. Still, Merry Christmas to all of you, hopefully I will update again before the new year! Please read and review – it is Christmas, after all!**

"_Whatever is the matter with Alice?" George asked Elizabeth anxiously, "She looks terribly unwell. Though she has been up all hours comforting Elizabeth, I suppose"_

"_It isn't that" said Elizabeth at once, studying the image of her daughter in the mirror. Alice was pale, almost grey, with heavy circles of tiredness under her eyes. She had put on a little weight, too, which Elizabeth thought rather suited her._

"_What is it, then?" George inquired, suspicious. Elizabeth smiled slyly._

"_You'll find out soon" she said brightly, "Just keep watching"_

* * *

I am perched on the very edge of my bed, watching the physician as he murmurs with his assistant. I strain to hear what they are saying, but cannot quite catch it.

I have been feeling ill for many weeks now, since just after Elizabeth discovered the truth about her beloved Robin. She is still not as she once was – she walks around dazedly, her mind in a state of great unrest, and Kat Ashley tells me that she does not sleep. She has sent Robert from court and replies to none of his letters, nor to any of the messengers that he sends to give her his love. He sends her jewels – but she does not need jewels. Her sends her poems – but she has an array of poets at her command, many of them better than he. He does not understand that she is a Queen, not a simple country girl that he can woo with a few gifts and smiles. You cannot woo a Queen with gifts – a Queen has everything.

I have put my illness down to exhaustion. I spent a week of nights and days closeted with Elizabeth, talking of her lover, talking of our interlinked pasts. When those days were over and she seemed to have improved I spent my nights with Francis, making up for lost time, often not sleeping until dawn.

But both Francis and my husband have noticed my weakness of late, and both insisted that I should see a physician. Pierre has lent me his own personal physician, a man with the most irritating French accent I have ever heard, to examine me.

"Well?" I inquired as the physician returned to my side, "Am I unwell?"

"Not at all, Madam" the physician seemed horribly smug and cheery, "You are with child"

I gasp. I cannot stop the smile from spreading across my face. My hands reach for my belly, feeling for the swelling under my stomacher. I thought that I had put on a little weight, but as no-one had noticed I had dismissed it as my own vanity.

"That is wonderful news indeed" I whisper, eyes watering, "I must go and tell Fr – my husband"

The physician does not seem to have noticed my mistake - after wishing me a safe and healthy pregnancy and kissing me on both cheeks, he departs, along with his bumbling friend.

I sweep hastily from the room – I have so many people to share my news with. But as I am on my way to where Francis will be, I hesitate. If anyone discovers that I have told him first, they would surely be suspicious. But if I tell Pierre instead, as protocol demands, Francis would be upset that he was not the first to know.

I hesitate, and, taking a deep breath, I go to my sister.

She is with Eric in their rooms - the two of them are practising a new dance. They are both laughing gaily as they skip up and down, arms linked. Eric is looking at Margaret with such devotion that it makes me smile all the more.

"Knock, knock" I say, still smiling at the two of them. Margaret blushes, but Eric grins in return.

"I have something to tell you both. I wanted you to know..." I hesitate. Margaret's eyes widen and she gives a squeal of delight.

"You're pregnant!" she deduces at once, clapping her hands. She flies towards me and flings her arms around my neck, kissing my fiercely on both cheeks. Eric kisses me too.

"Wonderful news" he says happily, "Would you like me to fetch George and Elena? I saw them just a moment ago"

"That would be lovely, thank you" I smile at my brother in law. I notice that, as I have turned away, Margaret's face has fallen, though when I look back, she is smiling once again.

"Congratulations, Alice" she says, and I sense that it is truly heartfelt, "What do you think it will be? I suppose your husband will want a boy?"

Margaret freezes suddenly, her eyes widening once again, "Your husband..."

"Don't say it, Meg, please" I warn, but she is already glaring at me.

"Whose child is it, Alice?" she asks. George arrives just as she asks. Eric and Elena are nowhere to be seen.

"They thought we might want a bit of privacy" he says, in answer to our unasked question. He looks between Margaret and I, anxious.

"Don't fight" he pleads, "We should be happy for Alice, Meg, not angry with her"

He embraces me fiercely, and I smile at him, "Thank you, George"

"But whose is it, Alice?" Margaret presses, "Tell us"

I turn away from her, "Not now, Meg, please. I still have many people to tell"

George shoots Margaret a fierce, stern look, "Go to them, then, Alice. I shall stay here with Meg"

* * *

My husband is delighted with the news. He does not seem to want to calculate the reason that means it cannot be his child, and I do not want to encourage him.

I leave him as soon as I can and go to Francis. He is playing bowls with Elizabeth, who has somehow already heard of my news – I assume it was Eric and Elena. She and Catherine are the only ones who have been informed, and both of them hug me and whisper their congratulations. Francis looks puzzled.

"Francis, darling, would you take Alice for a walk? She could use some air – she has not been well of late" says Catherine, winking at me. It is rather ironic that she is pushing her husband and his lover together, rather than keeping them apart.

Francis takes my arm, and , when we are out of sight, turns to face me with a confused expression.

"What is going on? Eric and Elena have told Elizabeth and Catherine something about you that they have not told me. Has something happened?"

I look up at him from under my dark eyelashes. A small smile curves my lips.

"I am with child" I tell him, watching his expression change, "It is your child"

Francis' hand trembles as he reaches out to cup my face in his hands, "You are sure?"

I nod, "I did not think that you would be so overwhelmed" I admit.

"Of course I am!" Francis protests, "Why would I not be?"

"Because you have already had fifteen children by Catherine" I say, and my voice is just a little sour. Francis laughs.

"But this is different" he says firmly, kissing me briefly on the lips, "This is a child made in love"

"My husband will have to believe that it is his child" I remind him. Francis nods slowly, a frown on his face.

"Yes, I know" he agrees reluctantly, "But I will care for the child, I swear. It will still be mine"

I smile up at him, "You are happy?" I ask. He nods.

"Happier than I ever thought possible" he promises, and promptly leans down to kiss me on the lips once again.

* * *

"Alice?" George comes hesitantly towards me during the court entertainments that night. I am standing beside my husband, who is even more annoying cheerful than usual.

"George" I say warmly, kissing my brother's cheek, "What is it?"

"May I have a brief word with you? In private?" he asks. I nod.

"Of course. Husband, if you will excuse me" I leave with my brother before Pierre can reply. We walk, arms linked, until we reach a deserted corridor. My brother looks to be in turmoil.

"I know I agreed not to mention it, Alice, but you are, of course, my sister, and we are very close"

"What is it, George?" I laugh, impatient. George grins feebly in return.

"Who is the Father, Alice?" he asks. I gulp loudly. My eyes blur with tears.

"Do you promise not to hate me?" I ask.

"I could never hate you" George swears.

"And you promise not to think me a slut?"

"I never would" George agrees.

"Then it is Francis' child" I tell him, "I am certain of it. My husband would realise it too, if he bothered to work it out – we have not lain together for months"

George hugged me tightly, "Don't worry, Alice. This is exactly why you got married, is it not? Everything has turned out perfectly"

"I feel so guilty" I confess, wiping my eyes, "George, I feel so cruel"

He smiles bracingly at me, smoothing out my wild curls of hair, "Come on, now, Alice. You must be strong and brave – Mama always taught us that"

"I know" I agree, taking a deep breath and standing up straight, "So did Papa. Let us go and dance"


	20. Another Boleyn Bastard

**A/N: I couldn't resist! I've been so looking forward to this chapter, I wrote it in my head while I was trying to sleep last night. I really hope it turns out right, and I hope you all like it. Please review, Happy Christmas**!

"What will you call it?" asks my brother, smiling as he feels the baby kick underneath my strained gown and stomacher.

"I thought Elizabeth for a daughter and Mark for a son" I tell him. His face creases into a frown.

"Not George?" he inquires, confused.

"I thought you might want to save that name for your own son" I admit. George does not smile and thank me; he looks away, at the floor, moving his hand away from my massive belly. We are sitting, alone, having one of our rare quiet moments, gazing out at the frosted trees. I am not far from giving birth and am already lying-in.

"Thank you, Alice, but – " George hesitates, swallows loudly, "I will not be having any more children"

"What?" I gasp, thinking that I may have misheard him. My younger brother finally manages to look me in the eyes.

"Something went wrong when Elena had Aurora. We said nothing at the time so as not to worry anyone, but something went wrong inside her. Elena cannot bear anymore children"

"Oh!" I reach out and pull my brother into a fierce embrace, "You should have said something! Oh George, I am so sorry! I know how badly you wanted a large family"

"I love Elena" says George, "And I would rather that she was safe and well than for her to try and bear other children. And anyway, I love Aurora so much that I do not think another child of mine could ever feel truly adored, not as she is" he pauses, "Please name your son George, Alice. For our Papa"

"And for you" I said quickly, "And for you, my dearest brother, my dearest friend"

* * *

These past few months have been a struggle, I must confess. I have been greatly unwell, and greatly guilt-stricken, and missing Francis more than you would ever believe.

Though Francis has been wonderful. He comes to my rooms just as I am about to get ready for bed, and brings with him a deliciously hot bath. He lathers my body in sweet lavender oils, to soothe me and help me sleep. He brushes lovingly my thick black hair, and tucks me into the bed, laying beside me until I fall asleep.

Of course, my pregnancy has taken its toll on our desires. I cannot lie with Francis, which frustrates both of us. Sometimes, before I sleep, we try to pleasure each other in other ways, his hands underneath my nightgown and mine down his breeches. It does not stop our longing for each other, though.

* * *

"_Elizabeth! Elizabeth, wake UP!" George shook his lover forcefully until her eyes opened. They no longer needed to sleep, but sometimes did just for the peace and relaxation. Not that Elizabeth ever got any peace and relaxation around George._

"_What's happening?" she asked, sitting up so quickly that she and George whacked heads. Anne, who was nearby, burst out laughing._

"_Alice is having the baby!" George cried excitedly, "Our first grandchild, Bess!"_

"_Oh, don't put it like that, please" Elizabeth groaned, settling down in front of the mirror, "You make me feel old"_

"_We're dead, darling" said Anne, "We can be young forever"_

_Elizabeth turned to George, "Are you sure you want to watch this? You've never witnessed a birth before, and they are not pretty. There will be a lot of screaming, a lot of pain and a lot of blood"_

"_I have witnessed a birth before!" George protested, "Our son? I was there, in spirit, remember? You held my hand"_

"_Oh, yes" Elizabeth was relieved, "Alright then, you can watch. But please don't squirm"_

_Anne snorted once again with laughter, "Well, I'm not watching. Goodnight"_

_Neither of them answered- they were watching the mirror, enraptured. They both winced when Alice screamed._

"_I can't believe it" Elizabeth murmured, eyes shining, gripping George's hand, "Oh, I do hope it all goes well"_

* * *

I wake in the middle of night with pains in my belly. Francis is gone back to his own chambers already – he has left a note for me. I am in too much agony to read it.

"_Help_!" I scream. The midwives come rushing in, racing around the room like headless chickens as they gather the tools of their trade.

"Fetch my...husband" I say to the youngest one, the assistant, grabbing her hand, "And my brother and sister. Tell my brother that he knows who else he should fetch. You understand?"

The girl nods and dashes off. The oldest midwife parts my white thighs to examine me. I hiss through my teeth at the next bolt of pain.

Only a few minutes later I hear the voices of my husband and Eric in the antechamber. Margaret comes flying in, her long red hair loose, wrapped tightly in a robe. It doesn't look like she has very much on underneath. Elena is close behind her.

"Are you sure you want to be here?" I ask Margaret between sharp breaths, "Remember what happened last time you witnessed a birth"

"Of course I want to be here" says Margaret firmly. She leans very close to me, as if she is giving me an embrace or a kiss on the cheek, then whispers in my ear;

"George has gone to fetch Francis and Catherine. And Kat is informing Elizabeth"

"Thank you" I whisper. She moves away and I relax as I hear the voices of my brother and Francis outside.

Catherine bursts in all of a sudden. I pale, and it is not because of the pain.

"Catherine!" I squeak, "What-are you-I mean – "

"I am here to help you" says Catherine, giving me a pretty, angelic smile that I remember from our childhood, "We all wanted to be here for you"

Margaret shoots me an apologetic glance. I am panicking. I scream shrilly as the next pain comes.

I hear my cousin Henry Carey outside too. I feel like I am part of some sort of show with a massive audience.

I cannot believe that Catherine has come to witness the birth of her husband's bastard child. The thought makes me feel sick – I vomit promptly into the nearby basin. Margaret gags.

The labour seems to last years, months, days, hours...it goes on forever. I just wish that it was over, I have never felt nor imagined so much agony in my life.

"I see the head" the midwife crows.

"Well, thank God for that!" I shriek. Elena grins.

"It's nearly over now, Alice" she says gently, holding on to my hand. Margaret is ashen, unable to look anywhere but into my dark eyes.

"Come on, Alice" she says faintly, "Not long now"

I give one last, hoarse scream, my back arching,, straining, and there is a cry of delight from Catherine, who has been helping the midwife. I suppose having fifteen children gives you some sort of experience.

"Congratulations" the midwife places a wailing, lusty baby in my arms, "You have a son"

My eyes well up with tears. I smile. My baby stops crying and looks intelligently at me. I smile at him.

"Hello, darling" I whisper, a tear rolling off of the end of my nose and onto his rosy cheek, "My son. My George"

Margaret gasps when I say that, and there are tears in her eyes as she beams at me. Even Elena and Catherine look tearful.

"We will send in your husband, and then the others" says Elena firmly. They each kiss me and my son, and leave me holding him. Pierre enters.

"You have done very well, sweetheart" he says adoringly. My guilt rises. If he does not already suspect, then he must see, in my son's gentle brown eyes, that this boy is not his child.

"He has your hair" says Pierre with a small smile, kissing my cheek and gazing down at my son, "You have chosen a name for him?"

"George" I say firmly, "His name is George"

Pierre is silent for a few moments, "What is your story, Alice?" he asks at last, "Why are you a Boleyn? You have never told me of your heritage of the name"

"You would regret marrying me if I told you" I say quietely. Pierre frowns.

"Never. Do tell me, Alice. I deserve to know who my son is being named after"

I want to see Francis and my brother, I have no time for stories. But I know that he will not leave until he hears of my inheritance, of my son's inheritance. I sigh.

"My father was George Boleyn, brother to Anne. You know of Anne Boleyn, I presume?"

"Of course. She was the most infamous wh-" he stops, stricken. I glare at him.

"She was not a whore. Let me continue" I snap, "My father - well, my Papa – had a secret love, a girl he had adored from childhood; Elizabeth Hollington. They tried to marry but were forbidden. Instead they began an affair, a most passionate affair. That is how I was conceived. It was said that I was the child of my Mama and her husband, but my Mama and Papa knew the truth. They had me, and Margaret. And then things started to go wrong" I took a deep breath; tears filled my eyes, "My Aunt Anne was accused of the most ridiculous things, falsely accused. She had done nothing to warrant their displeasure – she loved King Henry, and had given him a beautiful daughter, our Elizabeth. But the King had fallen for Jane Seymour. So he had to get rid of my Aunt. He created charges against her, and charges against people that he knew would try to save her. Like my Papa. He accused them of incest, using their close relationship as a tool against them"

I paused, "The last time I saw my Papa was in the March of that year. I did not get to see him before he died - I did not even know that he was going to be killed. Aunt Mary arrived at Hever, where all us children lived, and whisked away Catherine and Henry without a word to us of our parents. My Mama had her last meeting with my Papa in the Tower of London, the day before he died. She told him that she was carrying George. She went to his execution, she wept over his grave. She was forced to watch while that vile tyrant King, a murderer at best, gave the order for my Papa's head to be chopped off of his body, and my Aunt just two days later"

I was crying over my son. He looked up at me – his little hand curled around my finger. I smiled.

"I understand" said Pierre, very gently, "And I still would have married you"

He kissed my forehead and that of little George. Francis arrived, with my brother in tow.

George rushed up to me and kissed me, "Sister, I am so proud of you"

Francis hovered, not knowing what to say. George rolled his eyes.

"Francis, I know everything" he sighed, "You can hold your son"

Francis looked at him, startled. Then he came straight to me, and kissed my lips fiercely.

"I am so proud of you" he whispered, "Thank you"

I smiled at him, "Would you like to hold your son?"

Francis took baby George from my arms and cradled him. He kissed my sons tiny button nose. He stroked the black curls that George had inherited from me and stared into the brown eyes.

"He's perfect" he breathed, "I love him, Alice. I love you, too"

George pretended to vomit, "Okay...this is rather uncomfortable. I'll just sit in the corner and try to ignore you"

Francis sat beside me on the bed, and handed me my son. The three of us sat together, a small family, and soon George had joined us, and we all sat together, laughing and joking.


	21. My Baby

**A/N: I thought I would grant the Christmas wish of one more chapter before tomorrow. I'm so excited, I'm like a child again when it comes to Christmas! Hope you all have an amazing day and that Santa brings you all you want. Hehe. Please review!**

My son is christened just a week later. I have asked Elizabeth to be his Godmother, and she was very flattered by this request, agreeing at once. I think Catherine is offended that it is not her – but if it was her that would just be a bit strange. Margaret and Elena understand the importance of George having a Queen for a Godmother, and as they are his Aunts anyway, they do not mind or take offence. I have chosen Francis, his real father, to be my son's first Godfather, and my cousin Henry Carey to be his second.

I am not allowed to attend the christening, but when my husband brings George back to me I ask him to tell me of the events.

"He behaved very well" says Pierre with pride as I settle my boy in my arms, "Her Majesty seems very fond of him – she held him throughout the entire service, almost. But Francis held him a little near the end of the service, and also seemed quite taken by him – your cousin held him not at all" he pauses, reaching towards George, who grabs Pierre's finger in his fat fist and holds it tight, "He is a very loveable baby, I think"

I beam with pride, "He is, isn't he?"

Pierre leans towards me to kiss me on the forehead, "I will leave you now. But do not forget, soon you will have to send him away. Try not to get too attached to him"

"Too late" I murmur, still smiling, "Much too late"

From the moment I first held him I loved this child of mine more than I ever thought possible. I do think he loves me too – his warm brown eyes fix on me so often, and he turns to look to me whenever I speak. Of course, I am not allowed to feed him, as I would like to – the midwives insist that I must refrain from suckling my son, and allow my milk to dry so that as soon as I am churched I can be put back to bed with my husband. I dare not argue.

So they have brought in a wet nurse for little George instead. She is still a child, only fifteen, but recently gave birth to a baby girl who lived for only three days. Her name is Eve, and she lives with me and my son in the chamber that is mine in Pierre's rooms. At first I did not like her – I felt that she relished taking George away from me – but since then we have become the best of friends. I trust her implicitly, and she is much the same with I. She is small in height, though otherwise rather plump; with pretty blonde hair and the sweetest, most earnest green eyes I have ever seen. She is bright and bubbly, chattering away to me about the smallest of things.

Eve will go away with my son to stay at the house in which we spent the latter halves of our childhood. Until very recently, this manor was occupied by Uncle Thomas. We heard of his death only yesterday.

Of course, I am greatly upset by the news, but George is my solace. Margaret is upset too, but spends most of her time consoling Eric, who is distraught, as is Elena. My brother, however, is truly devastated – having never known his Papa, Thomas became a father figure to him, taught him the ways of men. He feels truly bereft, and I understand this. I have not seen him since – these reports were made to me by a weeping Margaret. She has also told me that Aurora has been moved there to continue her brief education.

"He was very good, Miss" Eve bounds into the room, her eyes eager -when she smiles, I can see the gap between her two front teeth. I grin at her.

"I have been told that by my husband, but I know that he would have said such even if George had been the most badly behaved babe in all of Christendom!" we both laugh, "But I know that you would give me the honest truth"

"Of course, Miss" Eve agrees – she will not call me Alice, no matter how I beg, "I had better feed him now, Miss"

"Thank you, Eve" I hand my son to her and she sits beside me to feed him. I watch, vaguely amused.

"Is he greedy?" I ask her, "He seems it to me"

"He certainly has a healthy appetite" Eve jokes, grinning back at me.

She hesitates for a moment, "Will you be upset when he comes away, Miss?"

"I will miss him very much" I say carefully, "But I trust that, with you, he will be in safe hands"

Tears of gratitude spring into her eyes, "Thank you, Miss. You've been so good to me, Miss"

I squeeze her hand; my son unlatches himself from her breast and begins to wail. The moment is broken; we both laugh. I take George away from her and walk him up and down the room. Eve watches thoughtfully.

"I didn't think that you ladies felt like this about your babies" she admits. I roll my eyes.

"We're not supposed to" I sigh, "But what is the point in having children if you do not care for them?"

* * *

Two days after I am churched – two days after Francis comes back to my bed - I must say goodbye to my son. I gain my lover, lose my child. It is not a very good deal.

My husband says goodbye to George in the morning, as do my family – Pierre is off on a trip to France to visit his beloved parents. Normally I might be dragged along too, but George gives me a reason to stay, thank Heavens.

Francis comes with me to see off George and Eve. Eve knows of my son's true parentage, knows of the extent of my affair, and welcomes Francis with her usual bright, toothy smile.

Francis cradles George, kissing his closed fist before handing him back to me. Tears fill my eyes and tumble over my cheeks – I do not want to give up my baby, not even for a day. It could be months until I see him again.

I stroke my son's glossy dark curls, twisting his locks around my finger, like a raven-coloured ring. I poke gently at his tiny button nose, provoking a gummy gurgle, feel the heat from his rosy cheeks. I look into his loving eyes and wish that he could stay. His hand curls around my finger, as though he wishes it too.

I kiss his head, his hair, all over his darling red face, and hand him to Eve. I then embrace her, kissing her rough cheeks. She looks surprised.

"I'll miss you, Miss" she grins at her own feeble wit, "And I'll try and write some letters to you, tell you how mister is getting along. My writing isn't all that good, miss, but I'll have a good go"

"I appreciate it, Eve" I sniffle, loudly, "I'll mis you very much. Take good care of him"

Francis puts his arms around me and holds me as Eve and the governess climb into the carriage and take my baby away.

* * *

"_Poor Alice" said Elizabeth sympathetically, wiping a tear away from her eye, "I felt just the same when I had to let go of her and Margaret"_

"_As did I" George agreed._

"_At least I got to keep George always by my side" Elizabeth continued, a little brightly, "He really was the most endearing little boy. It seems that Alice's George shall be the same"_

"_I wish that we could be there, hold him" George confessed, "It isn't like Lisbeth can have any children"_

"_My poor darling" Elizabeth sighed, "At least we have one of our children here, though. Some comfort for us"_

"_Yes" George nodded, "Though I do still feel for Alice"_

* * *

"Alice?" there comes my sister's voice, along with a timid knock. I suppose she fears that I will be with Francis, as it is rather late, but he is kept out of my bed this week due to the arrival of my monthly course.

"Come in, Meg!" I call in return. Margaret smiles as she enters. She looks extremely tired.

"How is Eric?" I ask her, "I have not seen him today"

"He is bearing up rather well" Margaret says, looking proud, "But how are you? I know that sending George away truly distressed you"

"I am doing better than I thought I might" I confess, "But what is the matter, Meg? You look exhausted, if you don't mind my saying so"

She gives me a little smile, and suddenly her face is bright, lit up like a thousand church candles. She grips my hands tightly, dark eyes glittering, gleaming, like Aunt Anne's did whenever she was telling my parents of some wild scheme.

"I am with child, Alice!" she hisses excitedly, "Eric and I had fears that I would never conceive, it has taken such a long time for me to carry a child, but now I have one in my belly! Oh, Alice, are you happy?"

I crush my sister to me in a most motherly embrace, "Meg, I could not be happier for you"

"I do hope that it all goes well" my sister murmurs, rubbing her barely swollen stomach, "I pray that it all goes well"


	22. The Tumble Down the Staircase

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long! I really hope you like this chapter, I'm not too sure already and I haven't even written it yet! Please read and review!**

_Elizabeth and George hovered just a little way behind Aurora. The fields of Hever were spread out before them, where Elizabeth had made her first entrance into heaven. The fields were much more golden and glorious in the afterlife than they had been on Earth._

_Aurora looked out into the distance, shielding her eyes from the bright, butter-yellow light. Her face broke into the most beautiful, dazzling smile that Elizabeth had ever seen her give. She grabbed George's hand._

"_See how happy she will be" she murmured. George grinned too, keeping the silence in respect for Aurora. _

"_Rora?"_

_None of them had heard Thomas' voice properly for what felt like a very long time. Aurora gave a gasp of delight and started running across the field._

"_Thomas!" she shrieked, holding her gown up around her knees to avoid tripping over, "Thomas!"_

_Elizabeth squeezed George's hand even tighter, almost bursting with excitement for her cousin._

_Thomas appeared from out of the golden and green grass. Aurora leapt up into his arms and he kissed her fiercely, holding her for a very long time. They murmured to one another, but Elizabeth and George could not hear it, and they did not need to, either. Anyone could see that the couple, who stood with their heads bowed and their fingers interlinked, were declaring their love for one another as they had not had the opportunity to for a very long time. _

_Elizabeth wiped a tear from her eye and, in a sudden flood of romance, kissed George deeply on the mouth._

* * *

"You will soon understand, when your child is born" I say to Eric as we walk back to his and Margaret's room. Our arms are linked, and we have been chattering for a good long while. It is times like these that make me wish I spent more time alone with Eric. He is all aglow with the excitement of a father-to-be, though Margaret's mood is often sour and she will not lie with him for fear of harming her baby.

"I am sure I- " we both halt outside Margaret's room as we hear voices there. It is a voice that anyone who is a large part of Elizabeth's court would recognise instantly.

"I didn't know that Lord Robert had returned" I frown. Eric puts a finger to his lips – he is scowling, his eyes full of suspicion. I admit, I am a little suspicious myself – why is Robert Dudley in Meg's room?

We both peer through the door, which is slightly ajar. Margaret is bustling around the room, her hair tied up loosely, her belly very slightly showing in her apple-green gown. She does not look at Robert, who is staring at her with a combination of anger, pleading and desire.

"Meg, my dearest, do you remember what we had? You loved me so, Sweet Margaret, I know you did, and I am sure that you love me still"

Eric's hand tightens on the doorknob. I put a hand on his arm.

"I am married now" Margaret returns coolly, finally looking him in the eyes – though not in a friendly way. I am pleased to see that she is not at all affected by Lord Robert's speech.

He looks dishevelled, I notice suddenly, and exhausted. What is he doing here?

"Ah, yes, married" Robert snorts, "I have seen your husband. He cannot possibly satisfy a hunger like yours"

Margaret gasps at his audacity.

"That's it" Eric growls, storming into the room. He punches Lord Robert hard around the face – I follow him into the room, going straight to my trembling sister.

"Eric, please..." she begs. Eric glares at Robert.

"Get out of here at once. And leave my wife alone" he snaps. Robert sighs, grinning to himself, though his eye is puffy, red and sure to bruise, before leaving the room. Eric turns on Margaret. I melt into the wall – he seems to have forgotten that I am there. My sister flings a look of surprise at me as Eric faces her furiously.

"Why on earth did you let him in?" he asks angrily. Margaret pales.

"I had little choice" she replies, bemused, "He forced his way in here and begged me to take him back"

"And you did not think to call for help?" Eric hisses, "Not at all?"

Margaret looks shocked, "He was not hurting me, Eric. It is not as though he were raping me!"

"He would have done, had I not arrived!" Eric retorts sharply, "Have you no sense, Meg?"

"Eric!" Margaret cries reproachfully- she, too, has forgotten my presence. Eric takes a step closer to her – his expression is suddenly that of a scared, injured child.

"You did not answer" he says, "You did not answer when Lord Robert said that I do not satisfy you"

Margaret blushes, "Eric, you cannot possibly think that I agreed...?" she protests. Eric looks hurt.

"You did not deny it"

"Eric, I had no chance to deny it at all!" Margaret rushed towards her husband, clasps his hands in hers, "You know that what that evil Lord Robert said is not true" she smiles at him suddenly, her black eyes shining, "You are ten times the man that he is, in more ways than one"

Eric snorts with laughter, his face softening, "Oh, Meg" he says gently, "I am sorry. I am just a jealous fool"

"Yes" Meg agrees, "My sweet husband"

As they kiss, I slip silently from the room, marvelling at how invisible I sometimes seem to be.

* * *

"Laetitia is looking at us" I murmur to Francis through closed lips as we dance, "She is looking at us very oddly"

Francis sighs, "She is so bright that sometimes I worry that she will figure us out. She really is so very intelligent" even in the complaint I hear the pride in his voice. He does love Laetitia, I know that, despite her flirtatious and conniving ways.

"Will you come to my bed tonight?" I ask softly, my lips at his ear. He grins.

"Of course. When do I not? Unless you forbid me to"

"Good" I say, fluttering my eyelashes at him, "My bed is cold without you"

"I should hope it is" Francis retorts, mocking me, "I should hate to think of someone else taking my place"

I giggle, "No-one ever could"

The dance ends and we part, for now. A messenger suddenly runs between us all, panting heavily as he drops to his knees before Elizabeth. The musicians stop playing, out of curiosity rather than courtesy. People stop dancing, having nothing to dance to.

"Yes?" Elizabeth inquires haughtily, smiling sweetly at the messenger, such a contrast to her tone.

"The Earl of Essex is here to see you, your Majesty"

"Robert?" Elizabeth frowns, "Does he wish for an audience?"

"Yes, your Majesty. He says he simply must speak with you, privately"

"Privately?" Elizabeth raises her eyebrows, "Certainly not. Anything that he wishes to say to me may be said in hearing of my court"

I am pleased; I do not want to miss this.

Pierre moves towards me, "I did not think that Lord Robert would return as yet" he whispers.

"Neither did I" I whisper back, "I did see him earlier today"

"What can he have to say that is so urgent?" Pierre muses. I shrug. Since the birth of my son a strange, newfound friendship has sprung up between my husband and I. Of course, I do not love him, I cannot love him when Francis is in this world and in my life. But I do value him as a dear friend, now.

Robert Dudley walks in, the whole court staring at him with eyes starving for gossip, scandal. He looks just as dishevelled as he did this morning.

"I was not aware that I had requested for you to return" Elizabeth says coolly, but we can all see the love in her eyes, the longing, because although he has hurt her, she will always love Robert Dudley. She will forgive him again and again until the day she dies, because he is hers, in her eyes, and she is his.

"You did not, my beloved Queen" Robert kneels, kisses her hand.

She nods in acknowledgement of the fact, "Rise. What have you to say?"

"Your Majesty, just two days ago my wife was found dead"

The whole court erupts into gasps of shock, whispers.

"He killed her" I breathe, "He killed her thinking that Elizabeth would marry him if he did"

It seems that everyone else is thinking the same. The only person that does not look suspicious is Laetitia. She has moved closer to him, her head tilted, smiling inquiringly. She says nothing, but he looks surprised at her closeness. Elizabeth ushers her away with a wave of her hand.

She is chalk white, and she thinks the same as the entire court, I see it in her eyes.

"They say that it was suicide – she was found at the bottom of the staircase" Robert says, and his voice cracks, "But her headdress and her gown were never disarranged. I think it was murder, Your majesty. Someone has killed my wife"


	23. Trial

**A/N: Sorry for the slight delay, for some weird reason I've been having a really stressful time lately, coupled with the fact that I now have to start applying for Sixth Form and thinking about...dundundun – the FUTURE! Argh! Life can be so scary...anyway, enough of my rambling, please review! OMG, I'm so sorry, I've only just seen that I accidentally uploaded the shame chapter twice...SO SORRY! So please review this real 23rd chapter! Sorry**

I look at our assembled group with curiosity. I have no idea why we have all been called together, but it does not bode well – we, as a whole, are Elizabeth's closest friends and confidantes. Catherine and Francis, George and Elena, Margaret and Eric, myself and my husband. Catherine is hanging off of Francis' arm, simpering like a lovesick girl. I scowl at the sight, but Francis looks over to give me a reassuring smile, letting me know that he still loves me the most. I grin, and have to hide it behind my hand.

Elizabeth comes in with great fanfare and ceremony, though it is only us. It has been a little over a week since Amy Dudley's murder , and a trial has been called to order against Robert Dudley, who is the prime suspect of this investigation. Elizabeth is distraught, hiding away from everyone. The trial is at the Tower the day after tomorrow, in the same room where my Father and Aunt were tried. Elizabeth is not allowed to attend.

She takes a seat before us, rubbing her temples as though she has a headache. She is still unwell, wrapped in a robe over her nightgown. The illness that she always gets when under stress has made its comeback, causing her to burn a raging fever in the night, her limbs to swell grotesquely and her head to throb with pain. She looks haggard, older than her years, even thinner than usual. Her black eyes are dull, she does not bestow her beautiful smile upon us.

"I need to ask a favour of you" she says after a few moments of anxious silence on our parts, finally looking at us all in turn.

"All of us?" Margaret frowns in her usual, unspoken way. I give her a sharp glance, which she ignores. She rests a hand over the tiny curve of her belly, where the baby has barely begun to grow.

"All of you" Elizabeth confirms.

"Anything, your Majesty" says Pierre eventually, waving his hand with a flourish. I nudge him in the ribs to get him to stop, and he does. Elena giggles as she notices, pushing her fingers against her lips.

"I am not allowed to attend Robert Dudley's trial. But Cecil has already told me that he will tell me only the outcome of the trial, and not the details, for fear it could upset me. Therefore, I need you to go instead. I trust every one of you to report back to me in complete honesty"

"Your Majesty..."I begin, "Your Majesty, I cannot...my father...your mother" I am almost incoherent with fear and incredulity.

"Yes, your Majesty" Margaret steps in quickly, eyes blazing, "The distress that it would cause me to visit that room, indeed, the Tower itself, could be harmful towards my unborn child"

"I, too, would rather stay behind, your Majesty" George agrees awkwardly. Elizabeth's face clouds over, like storm clouds gathering over the sun.

"You will all go" she snaps, "I insist"

"Your Majesty, please" I say, "Send Elena and Eric, and my husband, and Francis, and Catherine. Well, maybe not Catherine, it could distress her also. But do not send myself and my siblings"

"You went there quite happily for my coronation" Elizabeth retorts.

"That was a state occasion, we had little choice. But this time, we have a choice, and we say no" I reply boldly.

"You do not have a choice" Elizabeth whips in return. I stare at her, my black eyes pleading.

"But we are your friends, your Majesty, your family. And it will break our hearts"

Elizabeth rises from her throne, "My heart was broken when this whole sorry matter began" she hisses, "Maybe now you will know what it feels like. You will all set off tomorrow morning. I have arranged accommodation overnight for you in a nearby inn. You will report to me every word of that trial, every gesture, every sound from the crowd. Good day to you all, and good will to you on your journey"

* * *

We set off reluctantly on our horses the next morn, all eight of us, on our way to the inn close to the Tower. I have stayed there before, with my Mama, when we used to visit the grave of my Papa every year. I am sorry that this practice has not continued after her death.

My beautiful palfrey has been with me since childhood. She is old now, and will soon fall lame, just as Margaret's did a few years ago, and I dread that day. It will rid me of the best present that my Papa ever bought me. His last present.

I trudge along on her, falling behind the others. Elena, not being a keen rider, keeps pace with me.

"It must be difficult for you" she says as we get closer to the inn, the grey Towers visible from our vantage point, "I know that George is very upset by the whole event, though he would not admit it to any others but you and I"

"It is difficult" I say thoughtfully, "It should have stopped hurting by now, but it never does. Mama's death has not stopped hurting either. I think it is because their deaths were so cruel. Papa and Aunt Anne were murdered by one that they thought was their friend, in Aunt Anne's case, her love. Mama died raving and delusional, still seeing the man she loved though he was long gone, never whole again"

Elena reaches out across the gaps between us and squeezes my hand, "I know" she agrees gently, "I know"

We reach the inn and make our way to our separate rooms. While the others gather inside Catherine and Francis' chamber to play cards and dance until late into the night, I make my way down to the communal room for eating and drinking. I sent a letter ahead to Charles, my Papa's old guard and Mama's fervent admirer, asking him to meet me here, as we were once so close and have not seen each other for so long.

He is waiting, and he has aged since I saw him last, his hair now entirely silver. He smiles to see me and I embrace him, kissing him on both cheeks. He was like an Uncle to us after Papa's death – Mama made him one of George's godfathers. He also adored my Mama, though she never felt the same way. She may have done, if she had ever been able to get over my Papa.

"You have aged" I laugh, as we take a seat. He grins.

"And you have gotten so much older yourself. You look even more like your Father"

"Yes, and nothing like my Mama" I agree, grinning back, "How are you, Charles? Still loathing your job?"

"Oh, always" Charles nods, "But other than that, I am well. I have been one of the guards keeping an eye on the Earl who is to be tried tomorrow. You are here for said trial?"

"Yes. I begged, but Elizabeth made us all come. I hate going in there, after everything that happened. That place changed my life" I pause, "It changed all our lives"

"It is my life!" Charles sighs, "Anyway, we must stop being so maudlin. How is court life?"

"Interesting" I reply, musing, "I can see why Mama loved it so much. There is so much to be done, and the most delightful scandals"

Charles chuckles, "I suppose. And your siblings?"

"Margaret is with child, her husband is ecstatic. And George is very happy with his sweet little wife" I say, "Oh, Charles, life could be so beautiful if we could all have our heart's desire"

* * *

I slip out of the courtroom moments after the trial begins. William Cecil reads out the allegations against Robert Dudley, just as Thomas Cromwell did with my Papa. And I can see it all – my Mama standing where I am now, weeping, tearing her handkerchief to rags. And my Papa, beautiful and handsome and faking arrogance, smiling innocently up at the judges and giving the best defence since the great Sir Thomas More.

I walk away. My feet carry me outdoors, out across the green where my Papa was beheaded, where the ground whispers his name against my silk shoes, and into the chapel.

I open the heavy door with a creak. All is silent.

Then I hear a giggle, and shriek. I move further in, shut the door behind me.

There are two women dancing over my Aunt's grave. They are ghosts, these women, barely there. One is dark and mysterious, as darkly stunning as the daughter of the Devil, her lips spread wide in a ripple of alluring laughter. The other is holding on to her hands, a young girl, younger than me, with beautiful auburn ringlets and the sweetest, most open face, and she is the one emitting the giggles and shrieks.

It is my Aunt Anne and her cousin Kathryn Howard, dancing on their own graves. I smile, and they disappear, a figment of my imagination.

I walk up the aisle like a broken bride, and stand over the graves, side by side. I move over, sidestepping daintily the grave of an unknown, until I reach the spot where I know my Papa is buried.

I start to cry silently, shoulders shaking, embracing myself tightly with my skinny arms, shrouding my narrow body with my own warmth.

"Alice?"

A hand on my shoulder, a familiar touch that despite my sobs still sends tingles through my body. Francis' hands run through my dark, glossy curls, he drops a kiss atop my head, in a comforting gesture. He holds me tightly, letting me cry on his shoulder.

"Catherine told me to check on you" he murmurs, "She is worried for you"

"She is your wife and therefore I hate her" I reply venomously, "Oh, Francis, this place brings out the worst in me. I want my Papa. And Mama. I need them"

Francis moves away from me, tilts my face up to meet his, his brown eyes melting and soft and gentle, "You have me, my love. You will always have me"

His lips press against mine, sunlight breaks through the chapel window.

Then my name.

"Alice?"

My husband stands in the doorway, bathed in the golden afternoon sun.


	24. Over the Grave

**A/N: READ THIS! Just wanted to say I'm really sorry about the mix-up with the last chapter - you might have missed it because of my stupidness, which means that if you start reading this and get confused, you need to go back. I'm really sorry. And please please review, I didn't get any for the last chapter and am very sad (though I suspect that that is my own stupid fault...)! Thank you very much!**

"_Oh my God!" Elizabeth shrieked, clapping her hand to her mouth, "Oh my God!"_

"_Serves them right" said Mary smugly, "My daughter doesn't deserve such a cheating bastard for a husband, nor such an unfaithful friend"_

"_Oh, stop it Mary!" George snapped angrily, "Leave Alice alone. This is going to ruin her"_

"_It's going to tear them all apart..." Elizabeth breathed, tears in her eyes, "Oh, George! And we can do nothing to help her!"_

_Anne came skipping towards them, towing Henry Percy with her. He looked at Elizabeth with his usual concern._

"_Are you alright?" he asked, "What ever has happened?"_

"_Alice's husband has seen her and Francis kissing over George's grave!" Elizabeth wailed, "He shall murder them both!"_

_Henry Percy was struck speechless for a moment. Then Anne clapped her hands, her eyes shining with eagerness._

"_Oh, how exciting! I do love a good family drama!"_

* * *

"Pierre!" I gasp. Francis leaps away from me, and I from him. We are frozen, staring with horror at my husband, who is staring with horror at us.

"What is going on here?" his voice is cold, empty, void of all emotion. I want nothing more than to grab tightly onto Francis' hand for support, but I doubt that that will resolve the situation.

"Pierre – husband – I-"

"Explain. Now"

I take a few steps closer to him, back down the aisle. I can think of nothing to say. I cannot deny it, cannot hide my love for Francis. I turn to him, almost in tears.

"You must go back to the trial" I whisper, "Please, Francis. Go back to the trial"

"I won't leave you" Francis replies through gritted teeth, "Not when he is like this"

"Pierre and I need to talk about this" I say gently, "We need to talk alone"

Francis hesitates, "Alright" he agrees eventually, "I understand"

As he walks past, his hand brushes mine. Pierre's eyes harden and narrow as he notices this. I blush.

The door swings shut behind him with a heavy thud. I am alone, alone with an angry and cuckolded husband. Probably not my best idea.

"How long has this been going on?" Pierre asks woodenly. I move closer to him -I am only an arm's length away now. Yet I do not dare to move closer. A lot of husbands strike their wives for lesser crimes than adultery.

I swallow. The sound is loud in the peaceful silence of the chapel, "A long time"

"How long, Alice?" his voice rises.

"I – I don't know exactly. A long time, I can't be sure when – "

"Who else knows?"

George. Margaret. But I will not tell him that.

"No-one!" I cry, panicked, "No-one. Except you, now"

Pierre snorts in disgust, "Yes, and I wish to God that I did not"

"I know that I have hurt you-"

"Stop" Pierre interrupts, "Do you love him?"

I open my mouth but do not reply. The tears escape, running over my face, which is even paler than usual. I want to lie. I do not.

"Yes" I croak, "Yes, I love him"

Pierre gives a choked gasp, as if someone has stabbed him through the heart. When he looks to me again, his face is suddenly filled with fear.

"Is George my son?"

I cannot speak, I nod, shake my head, in such quick succession that he does not understand. For the first time he looks truly angry.

"You slut!" he screams, "You must know – is George my son?"

I start to sob, "Yes!" I shriek, the lie burning my lips, "Yes, he is your son!"

His shoulders slump, as if all the feeling , all the fight, have left his body. Our eyes meet, the hazel green and the black. One pair angry and lifeless, the other scared and guilty.

"Pierre, please...you must tell no-one...Catherine would be devastated...and Laetitia...Catherine is my friend. My cousin. I do not want to hurt her too"

"You need to leave court" he says at last, "You need to leave, go and stay awhile with your son. I don't want to see you anymore"

"Pierre, no!" I protest, "No, I cannot leave...you cannot tell!"

"If you leave, just for a week or two, just to give me time, I will tell no-one. If you leave me for just a short time, then I will keep your hideous secret, even though you have broken my heart"

"Then I will go" I agree at once, "Thank you, Pierre, thank you so much, I – "

"You must leave at once" Pierre adds tonelessly. I hesitate.

"Now? But...what about the trial? Elizabeth will be angry if I just leave"

"I will tell her that you received word that your son was ill"

"Why do you say your son instead of our son?" I ask, my voice barely audible. Pierre looks at me with sadness and reproach.

"Because I don't believe you" he replies slowly, "I don't believe a word you say"

I turn away from him, wiping my eyes on the sleeve of my gown, "Will you tell the others the same?"

"Yes"

"May I...Francis should know the truth"

"That is up to you. I cannot stop you from writing to him. But when you come back to court the affair must be over. You will not speak with him again. You will not cuckold me again"

"No" I whisper, "I shan't, I promise" it breaks my heart too, to think that I will not be able to be with Francis anymore. But I know that I must end it.

I go to walk past him, not even glancing back to the graves of my Papa and Aunt. I am still drying my tears as I put my hand on the door.

"Alice?" he says, and is voice is the saddest I have ever heard.

I turn, just slightly, so that he knows I am listening.

"I loved you, Alice" he murmurs, "I really did love you"


	25. Killing me Softly

**A/N; I'm so sorry! If it helps I have excuses...first I was ill, then I had two exams, then it was my birthday, and then it was my brother's birthday, and all last week I was almost in tears every day from the stress I'm getting at school at the moment! So I apologise, I really do, and please forgive me enough to review! Thank you for reading!**

"_You see that, Henry?" Anne taunted, though there was seriousness in her tone, "That girl, the girl that you called useless has ruled for longer than that soppy son of yours already! Who do you want to apologise to now?"_

_Elizabeth couldn't help giggling as she came across Anne arguing with her (arguably) ex-husband. She had come to speak with Anne about Alice, but this was much more entertaining._

_Henry mumbled something in reply. Anne cupped her hand around her ear and leaned closer to him._

"_Pardon? I didn't hear quite hear you"_

_Mary swept past then, and she smirked when she saw Elizabeth._

"_Whores never win" she sang out triumphantly. Elizabeth glared at her._

"_Looks like you're still losing then"_

_Mary gaped, speechless. Elizabeth resented the void that had opened up between them. Heaven was supposed to be easier than this, she had always thought._

"_How's Alice?" she asked, going over to George instead of trying to grab Anne's attention. It seemed unfair to interrupt her when she was enjoying herself so much. _

"_Not too good" George sighed, "I'm worried about her"_

* * *

I spend the first three days of my visit home in my old bed, weeping into my pillow and sheets until they are both soggy with my salty tears. Eve, who has gotten over her aversion to calling me Alice, spends most of this time with me. She keeps George away from me, because she doesn't think that he ought to see me upset. I agree with her. I tell her exactly what happened between Pierre and I. I tell her, also, that I will not write to Francis. I will make this as painless as possible for me. I will tell him that we can be no more when we are surrounded by people and then I will slip away to cry him out of my system. Eve listens with wide eyes.

"You're going to give in?" she exclaims, horrified, "But you love Francis, and he loves you. He's George's Papa"

"I know" I groan, burying my head in my hands, "But I have to do this. If anyone finds out, everything will be ruined. My entire family will hate me, and I haven't had them back very long"

On the fourth day, I get up. Eve dresses me early in the morning, before my boy is awake, and I go down to the kitchens to see the cook and her little maid. They are the only servants we have left.

"What is the news from London?" I ask, "One of you must have been to the town for food"

The maid, a thin, fragile young thing says nothing, dropping a piece of bread onto the table for my breakfast and hurrying away. The cook, however, who has known me since my teenage years, nods.

"Oh yes, Miss. Yer mean the Earl's trial?"

"Yes" I nod eagerly, leaning forward, "What news is there of it?"

"The Earl's been freed of all charges, Miss. They say he ain't yet back at court"

"Oh, thank you" I say, relieved, "Elizabeth – the Queen – will be pleased"

I spend the next ten days with my son. He has grown beautifully, and is the sweetest, handsomest little boy I have ever seen. He looks like his Father, but with my curls. He is playful, but also very curious. He asks lots of questions and seems eager to learn – Eve tells me that she sometimes has trouble answering his questions! I cannot wait until he can have a tutor, which is not long – he seems to be greatly looking forward to it. He is clever, I am sure, and will learn well. He may even be a scholar, because God knows I do not want him at court.

I am enjoying being with George once again, and Eve, but am still relieved and pleased when Pierre's letter arrives. He asks me to come back to court. He says that he has not forgiven me and cannot trust me again, but he is willing to try and renew the tenuous friendship that we had established before the entire debacle.

I leave the next morning. I am grieved to leave my son and Eve, and weep over their loss. But I will see them again soon; I do not think that I will last long at court without Francis.

* * *

I am glad to see George and Margaret. They wait to greet me, and at once I tell them what really happened. Margaret has one hand lying over her heart in a sympathetic gesture, the other cradling the bulge of her belly. George embraces me, holds me while I spill all my feelings into the air around us. Margaret joins in too. I am so glad of them both.

My reunion with Pierre is not so sweet. He smiles awkwardly at me and tries to look pleased to see me, but his eyes are injured and otherwise lifeless. He does not love me anymore, and I can see the difference in his expression and his gestures.

That night, I have to tell Francis. I want him to remember our time together as something so precious, and I want him to forever think of me as the most beautiful woman in the world. Margaret dresses my hair, paints my face, chooses my jewels. I wear Mama's scarlet gown, because it always makes him look at me. It makes everyone look at me.

Attention is drawn to me when Elizabeth calls me over. She smiles at me and allows me to kiss her hand before hugging me.

"How is little George? I am sorry that I made you go the Tower, Alice. But how is my godson?"

"He is much better now, Liz – your Majesty. And I understand why you made me go. I am glad of the verdict"

"Are you?" Elizabeth raises her eyebrows, "Part of me is, and part of me is not. But we will discuss this later. Do go and enjoy yourself"

Francis is the first person to ask me to dance. Pierre glares at him when he comes over, but I tilt my head slightly towards him to let him know that this is the moment that Francis will be gone from our lives. His face lights with pleasure, though he must know that he is torturing me.

Francis takes my hand, he cannot take his eyes of me. He looks ill with worry and stress.

"What happened?" he whispers as we begin to dance, "I thought he might have murdered you or something! But then he said you were with our son...you could have written. Why did you not send word?"

I cannot look at him, "Francis, I have to tell you something"

We twirl.

"The thing is, Francis...you know I love you"

He lifts me up into the air, then slides me down again.

"I always will"

He twirls me away; I spin back.

"But we have to end this. I can't be with you anymore"

We part, stomp, clap. When I twirl back, his face is dark.

"Pierre will tell everyone if we carry on with this. If that happens, they will take George away from me and make him a ward of my brother, who is more respectable. They will banish us both and separate us entirely. Catherine and your children will hate us both forever. I will lose the family that I have only just gained"

"Alice, please" Francis looks like he might cry. He lets go of my hand to bow.

"I love you, Alice"

I curtsey, "Goodbye, Francis"

I run.

* * *

I have been crying for nigh on an hour when the door to my chamber opens. I assume it is Pierre.

"Are you happy now?" I lash out, without turning. I am bent almost double, in agony with the pain of a lost love, clinging to the bed post, tears streaming down my face, "You've killed my heart. Are you happy?"

"No"

I straighten, turn around.

"Francis. You have to leave. Did you not understand what I said? It is over between us"

"It does not look over" Francis whispered. He, too, looks like he has been crying. I have rarely seen a man cry.

"It looks to me" he continues, "As if this has broken your heart"

"It has!" I explode, "You know it has, surely?"

"I do" Francis agrees, "I will not lose you, Alice. We will just have to be more discreet. Meet up less. I will not lose you completely"

"Francis, no, did you not _understand_? They will do all the things I said if they find us out"

"They won't find us out" Francis retorts, and his crushes his lips both furiously and passionately against mine.

At first I struggle, but I know that I will surrender. I love him. And I think that he is right.

**A/N: Silly, silly Alice...only five chapters left, can you believe it? I thought I had better warn you...I'm going to miss this. Don't forget to review!**


	26. Letting the Cat out of the Bag

**A/N: I'm so so sorry! School is a complete hindrance to writing, I tell you that now! Less than two months left until all my exams and I'm starting to panic, which is my excuse for this. I only had one review last time...please review this one, it's a big chapter! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing,...hint hint! ****xxx**

"Mistress Alice? Mistress Alice?" there is a hammering on my door, accompanied by the reedy voice of a frantic messenger. I am dressing my hair up under my hat and tying the sash of my blue riding habit – I am planning to ride this afternoon to clear my head and distract my mind. I have informed my brother and sister that Francis and I are continuing our affair even more secretly than before, and they have become akin to spies for me, making sure that no-one is suspicious of us, least of all my husband. But I will not be able to hide it from Pierre for much longer...

I leap up to answer the door in a rustle of satin and damask, and my face falls when I see the anxious expression on the young boy's face.

"Your sister, the Lady Margaret, wishes to speak with you. She says that it is most urgent"

"Has she gone into an early labour?" I ask fearfully as we hasten along to my sister and Eric's rooms. The messenger shakes his head.

"I am not at liberty to say, Mistress Alice"

"Oh, please tell me!" I cry, "I must be prepared to aid her, if she is indeed giving birth"

"She is in an early labour...of sorts" the messenger mumbles. My hand flies to my mouth.

"Oh no! Not a miscarriage!" I exclaim. The messenger looks away, his eyes downcast. I outstrip him at once, running pell-mell to Margaret and Eric's rooms. I hammer on the heavy oak door hard enough to make my hands throb and redden with the pain.

Eric opens the door; his face is pale and drawn. The court physician walks past him and exchanges a knowing look with me that I studiously ignore. Now is not the time for conspiracies. He pats Eric on the shoulder and exits. I fling my arms around my brother-in-law.

"Oh, Eric, is it true?" I gasp, finding my eyes welling with tears, "How is she, Eric?"

I feel his own tears soak my gown as he buries his face into my shoulder and weeps. I pull back to look at him.

"Why don't you go and fetch Elena? And George will want to comfort Margaret too. I will stay here with her"

Eric nods and walks smartly away. I take a deep breath, shutting the door behind me before going in to find my sister. She sits, quite alone, in the midst of a mass of sheets piled upon the bed, some of them spotted with her blood. She hugs her knees to her chest, something she has always done since childhood, whenever she is upset. I take a few tentative steps towards her, then rush over and cradle her against my bosom.

"Margaret" I murmur, "Poor dear Meg"

"My baby is gone" Margaret sobs, "Alice, you do not know how badly I wanted, nay, needed, that baby"

"I know how badly you longed to be a mother" I say, holding back my own tears, "You can still have another child, Meg"

"You don't understand – you have a child. But what if I am like our Aunt Anne, think of all the miscarriages she had! Think of what it did to her!"

"But she had Elizabeth first, Meg, and I have never seen a more beautiful, intelligent and vital person that our Queen Elizabeth, our very own cousin. That proves that you can have a perfectly healthy and lovely child"

"No, Alice, no. God has done this for a reason, I am sure of it"

"But you have not sinned, darling sister, so I do not believe so"

"I must have sinned, Alice, this is my fault! I want my baby, Alice, my baby- "

"There you are!"

Catherine Carey comes pounding into the room with a triumphant yell. Margaret and Iexchange a puzzled glance. Eric, George and Elena appear just behind her.

"But we told you that she was here, Catherine" Elena frowns, "Whatever is the matter?"

"Yes, what's going on? Margaret is very upset, Catherine" I rise, leaving my sister still stained with tears, a bemused frown wrinkling her smooth brow, "You look ever so excited about something"

Catherine takes a step towards me, "You, of all people, should know why I am here"

Margaret gasps, catching on at once. George's eyes widen and fix with mine. I look as frightened as a hunted rabbit, I am sure of it.

"I have no idea" I reply, barely audible. Catherine laughs hysterically.

"Don't lie to me, you slut!" her voice rings around the room, echoing over and over in my ears, "I found this!"

She holds a letter out towards me. A half finished letter, from Francis to me. My face pales as I scan the words in his sprawling script. _My love, where shall we meet tonight?_

"And these, too!" Catherine shrieks, and she flings dozens of letters towards me, fluttering like threatened baby birds, letters from me to Francis, notes with places to me in my curling handwriting. She moves closer, and the precious papers are crumpled underfoot. I see George slip away and I know that he is going to fetch Francis. The parchment tears as Catherine gives a sudden great lurch forward and smacks me across the face.

"Just like your Mother!" she roars, "You're a sick, depraved whore just like your mother! Stealing a man from his wife, betraying your husband, all to satisfy the lust and greed that flow through your blood from HER!"

"Don't you dare. Don't you ever, ever, talk about my mother like that" my voice is low, menacing, my cheek still stings, "This has nothing to do with her, so don't you bring her into this"

Catherine gets right up to my face and spits the words, "Your Mother was a useless harlot. Just. Like. You"

"Shut up!" I screech, flying at her and tearing at her thin golden hair. She gives a howl of pain and scratches my face fiercely. My brother reappears, with Francis in tow, and they fly between us. Pierre hovers behind them – he must have heard the commotion. His face is smug.

"Catherine!" Francis yells, "Leave the poor girl alone! What is the matter with you?"

She shoves him away, and suddenly she is crying with rage. She stamps on the letters.

"I found your letters" she growls, "Your letters to your whore"

Francis pales too, "Catherine, I – "

Catherine whips round to look at Pierre, "Did you know?"

He nods, "I found out only recently. They told me that it was over"

"It is not. I found a half-finished note written this morning by my husband, asking where they might meet. They have betrayed both of us"

Elena, Eric, Meg and George are frozen in silent shock. George tries to take my hand, but I tug it away.

"We have betrayed no-one!" I scream, "We are in love, can you not see that?"

"He is MY husband!" Catherine bellows, and once again we are attacking each other. George shoves Catherine away from me.

"Leave her alone, you spiteful witch! Don't you touch her again!"

"How dare you talk to me like that!" Catherine exclaims, and she slaps George also, "You cannot possibly defend that slut!"

"She's my sister!" George yells back.

"George, let them be! For Heaven's sake, it's nothing to do with you" Elena pleads crossly.

"Elena, don't you get involved" Eric groans, and as my second slap swiftly catches Catherine's face, he tries also to separate us.

"Eric, stop it!" Margaret yelps, "If you get hit I swear to God I'll get in there myself!"

"BITCH!" Catherine bellows, and I dart away from her clawing hands.

"Don't touch her" snaps Francis, "Leave her alone"

"You love her!" Catherine shrieks accusingly, "You love her, foolish man, you love that whore!"

"Stop calling her that!" Francis and George chorus in unison.

"That's what she is!" Pierre explodes, "She's a witch, a temptress, just like that Aunt of hers!"

"Don't talk like that about poor Aunt Anne!" Margaret protests, struggling up from the bed and punching my husband feebly in the belly, "Not only are you wrong to talk so, it's treason! You'll be hanged, and the world will be better when you are! Ruining Alice's life like that, you bastard!"

"Margaret, sit down, you'll hurt yourself!" Eric cries.

"SHUT UP!" I roar, "SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!"

They all freeze. Margaret has her hand on Pierre's chest to shove him, while Eric is pulling her back from the waist. Catherine is glaring up at Francis, George trying to get in-between them, her nails leaving red scratches on both their faces. Elena is flapping her hands ineffectually between them, trying to get them to stop.

"I'm pregnant" I whisper into the silence, my eyes fixed on Francis', "I am going to have Francis' baby"

* * *

"_Well" Anne said brightly, as she, Elizabeth, George, Aurora, Thomas and Mary sat crowded around the mirror, _"That_ was dramatic"_


	27. Punishment

**A/N: I'm so sorry, but I can't help the massive gaps between chapters, revision gets more hectic by the second. Thank you so much for the lovely reviews on the last chapter, sorry to leave you on such a cliffhanger!**

Everyone stays very silent for a moment, very still.

George starts grinning before he can stop himself. Even Elena smiles. I can't look at Margaret – this must be hurting her, must sting a little, after what she has just been through. Pierre stares at me in horror, his face telling me that that tiny bit of love he had managed to still harbour for me is now gone, never to return. I know now that he will divorce me and leave me penniless. What a good day I am having.

Catherine bursts into tears, but Francis does not comfort her. Instead he moves towards me and kisses me very sweetly, gently, all over my scratched and reddened face. This is the last straw for my cousin.

"So you choose her!" she screams, "Well, we'll see what Elizabeth has to say about this!"

"Catherine, no!" I exclaim, but she is already gone, Pierre hot on her heels.

I start to cry too, "Will they take George away from me now?" I ask, barely talking.

"Of course not. Elizabeth loves you, she would never allow it" Francis says soothingly, stroking my hair.

"You know what will happen now, don't you?" says Margaret – it is the first time she has spoken since my outburst.

"What?" I ask fearfully. Margaret looks away from me and to George. It must be bad if she does not want to say. George comes over to me and squeezes my hand.

"Catherine is going to make her banish you"

* * *

It seems like days later that I am summoned by my cousin the Queen. She is not seated in her throne looking haughty and grand, but sits by the fire, her silhouette dark against it, fading the weary lines that have started to appear around her eyes.

"Come in, Alice" she doesn't sound angry; just thoughtful.

I walk towards her and curtsey. She gestures for me to sit opposite her.

"Catherine came to me" she says, "She tells me that you have been having an affair with her husband Francis and are carrying his child. Is it really true?"

"Yes" I whisper, bowing my dark head, "And – and my son, George – he is Francis' child also"

"Oh Alice" she sighs, and she sounds truly reproachful, "Why did you not tell me?"

I look up, surprised, "I did not think that you would want to know. I thought that you might be compromised, as Catherine and I are both your cousins"

"Of course I would have liked to know" Elizabeth rubs her temples wearily, and when she looks at me again, her eyes are glittering with unshed tears.

"You understand now that I have no choice but to exile you. The gossip will be rife, it is a serious matter to play the whore to someone married and in such high standing. You will not be able to come back to court again. You will have to stay with your children in your childhood home for the rest of your days"

I take a deep breath, "That's alright. I love him. I wouldn't take it back for anything, even if it would mean I could stay here with my family"

"How could you be so selfish? I need you" Elizabeth cries suddenly, and I freeze. She shakes her head, wiping her eyes.

"No, I'm sorry" she counters at once, "I know that you love Francis, I'm glad you and he were happy"

"Thank you. That means a lot to me" I say at last, "When must I leave?"

"Tomorrow morn. But I have one more thing to give you, since you have been such a good friend to me" she pauses, "I have...persuaded Catherine to let Francis come and stay with you until the babe is born. He may stay until the christening, then leave and never see you or contact you again"

"Oh, Bessie!" I cry, using the nickname we had formulated in our adolescent letters, flinging my arms around her, "The best gift you could have given me has come! This will be appreciated by both of us, these last months will be so precious!"

She laughs weakly and hugs me in return. When I pull away we are both weeping.

"You have been a dear friend to me, the best friend I could have had. I know that we have had some disagreements, but I have loved you as I once did my sister, God rest her soul. You have treated me as a normal woman and not a Queen, you have advised me and comforted me. I could not have asked for anything more" Elizabeth says softly, and I can tell that she means every word.

"You have been just as much, if not more, to me. You are a great friend, a great woman, and a magnificent Queen. I will miss you so"

"We shall write to you, and I shall write your letters, not my clerk. You will be the only person in the kingdom who gets letters from the Queen in her own hand"

I smile, "It will be the biggest honour I could have imagined. Thank you for everything"

"And you" we embrace once more, my cousin the Queen and I, before I leave and do not look back.

* * *

The others already know. Catherine has told Francis of his part and he has told my siblings and their spouses. He has gone to pack, leaving George, Margaret, Elena and Eric still sitting, waiting, in Margaret and Eric's chamber.

"We are going to say our goodbyes tonight. I don't want to have to do this again tomorrow" I say at last after a few moments of heavy silence.

"We'll come and visit anyway" says Elena, "For Aurora. So you will still see us all"

She comes to me first and holds me for a very long time, and I cling right back. Eric is next, whispering in my ear his thanks for all I have done for him and Margaret. He kisses both my cheeks and I laugh tearfully like a schoolgirl.

Margaret moves towards me with wide, streaming eyes.

"I can't believe you have to go" she whispers, "I need you. You've always been with me, we're never apart! I don't know what to do if you're not here. I've never done anything without you here"

"Come on" I murmur, "You're a strong, independent woman now, Meg. You're married. You're the niece of the bravest woman who ever existed and the daughter of the strongest one. The daughter of a man who took everything that came at him with a smile on his face"

"But the baby..." Margaret begins fearfully.

"No, don't think on it. Meg, you will have a child when the time is right, I promise" I stroke her long russet hair and think on how much she looks like our Mama. We squeeze each other tightly.

My brother is last of all. My brother and my closest confidante. He lights up my days with his smile, his voice is like a song sung only to make me laugh. I love him dearly, the baby of my family.

"I'm going to miss you the most" I say, so quietely that only he will hear. He chuckles.

"I think I'll miss you more than anyone could imagine. But at least you get to keep Francis for a while. It will all turn out right, you see if it doesn't"

I go back to my room to pack without another word. I can say no more goodbyes tonight, cry no more tears.

I will not say goodbye to my husband.


	28. Safe Haven

**A/N: Hope you like this chapter...please review! (I can't think of anything else to say...are you as shocked as I am by that?)**

When we arrive at my childhood home that first day, we receive a very warm welcome.

Eve is so shocked to see me that she almost faints, but instead runs towards me with her skirts hitched up to her knees.

"What are you doing here?" she exclaims, "You didn't tell me you were coming!"

I jump carefully down from my horse and reach out to embrace her, "It' s a very long story. I shall tell you everything as soon as we are settled"

"We? Oh!" Eve suddenly notices Francis, and curtsies before him, blushing, "Sorry, Sir"

"You must call him Francis" I say firmly, not looking to gage my lover's reaction to the intimacy, "Just like you call me Alice"

Eve draws me closer into a false embrace and hisses in my ear, "I thought he was your husband!"

I laugh, "No. And everyone knows that we are here together"

"I can't wait to hear this story" says Eve with a frown. I laugh again.

"I can assure you, you'll like it very much" Francis leaps down from his horse and comes to stand beside me, "Can I see my son?"

I smile, "Yes, Eve, where's my darling boy?"

"Come with me. He's just through there in your old music room. I'm going to go and get a chamber sorted out for you both, and tell the cook that she had best prepare dinner for you two tonight"

"And every night for the next seven months or so" I add with a mischievous smile. Eve shrieks.

"Oh, Alice! Why so long?"

"It's all to do with the story that I will tell you later. But the main part of it is that I am going to have another child"

"The best news in the world!" Eve cries, "Oh, I must go and tell the cook! And little George's governess has come here to lunch before she leaves, I think, I must tell her too..."

Eve dashes away and I turn to Francis with a wry smile, "She is a very dear friend to me. You must humour her eagerness"

"I will, of course" Francis looks uncomfortable, "Alice...George won't recognise me, will he?"

"I cannot say" I murmur, squeezing his hand, "But he is a very affectionate boy, and-"

"Mama? Mama, is that you?" a sweet, plaintive voice comes from inside the music room. I leap around the corner and grab him as he hovers by the doorframe. He squeals with delight.

"Mama!" he cries excitedly, flinging his little arms around my neck, "I missed you, Mama"

"Oh, my darling, I missed you too" I find myself getting rather tearful and push him back to look at him, my sturdy, sweet little boy. His black curls have grown quite unruly around his open, chubby face, and his brown eyes still shine so brightly. I kiss his cheeks over and over.

"Now, sweeting, do you remember me telling you about your Papa? How he wouldn't be able to come and see you because it's a secret that he is your Papa?"

George nods, reaching out to touch my cheek with his soft hands, "Is he here, Mama? I heard you talking to someone"

"Yes, he is. Would you like to see him?"

George nods vigorously, "Yes, please, Mama"

Francis hears us from outside and comes in with a smile on his face for his son. George runs to him and hugs his legs, the only part of him that he can reach.

"Papa!" he exclaims happily, and I leave them in privacy to go and find my niece.

Eve is with her, little Aurora, who is definitely growing up into a very pretty little thing, the image of her mother. She is being measured for some gowns as hers are worn from playing with George in the gardens, Eve tells me. My niece kisses me fondly, recognising me at once, and I give her a letter from her parents and a doll that Elena had made for her. Her eyes shine with mirth and she instantly enquires of the dressmaker if there would be any scraps left over to make a dress for the doll.

While Francis is with George and Aurora and the dressmaker are sorting through material swatches, Eve takes me to the chamber that has been set up for Francis and I, demanding to know what is going on. I relate the entire tale, including the scene in my sister's rooms, while Eve listens with a gaping mouth.

"How kind it is of the Queen to let Francis come with you until the christening! But what a shame for your brother and sister. And I feel terrible for poor Francis, having to go back to such an angry Catherine after these next few months"

"I know" I agree, "But Francis and I have made an agreement that whilst he is here we will live only for the present"

"I am glad of it" said Eve fiercely, grasping my hand, "Oh, Alice, it will all work out well!"

* * *

The next seven months pass quickly, but so pleasantly. Aurora finds it thrilling to have me around to teach her the new court dances and tell her about what the Queen Elizabeth, her godmother, wears nowadays. My son is delighted to have both of his parents with him. Many days are spent with Eve, Francis and I out in the gardens, playing games with the two children. We play hunting games, have races, chase one another, make little leaf ships to float in the stream. Some days Eve and I stay indoors and gossip over my embroidery. As I am without eyes I do not have to live by the strict court rules, so do not go for my lying in. I spend the days close to the birth however way I wish to.

And the nights, oh, the nights. Francis and I can share a chamber, share a bed, without fear or concern, without him leaving in the dead of night or me slipping out of the covers at dawn. We can stay together all night; we can make love and fall asleep in each other's arms, then wake again at dawn and start all over again. We can scream each other's names in pleasure without fear of being overheard by someone who could blackmail us. As the months draw to an end we are more tender with each other, while he kisses my swollen belly, brushes my hair for me, massages my aching back.

My pains begin exactly six months and three weeks after our arrival at my childhood home in Kent. Francis has just fallen asleep, but I felt restless and jittery. My sudden gasp of pain wakes him at once, he was always a light sleeper, and he kisses me deeply before rushing off to fetch Eve and the midwife.

"You can't be in here" the midwife barks at Francis as soon as they return, her voice harsh and loud above my whines of pain.

"I want him here" I growl through gritted teeth, "He stays"

The midwife raises her eyebrows and mutters under her breath, then gestures to Eve, "Help me, girl"

Eve nods and gives me a reassuring look, and I know that she will keep me safe.

The labour drags on endlessly. Eve eventually has to leave to look after the children, but Francis stays by my side. I cling to his hand.

"Not long now, Alice" he says encouragingly, "I love you, Alice, be strong now"

I scream, a heart-wrenching howl of pain, as my baby comes into the world. The midwife pushes the little chest for breath and the baby starts to wail. The midwife picks the child up and hands it to me.

"A girl" she says with a smile. I beam , as does Francis.

"Well done" he whispers, kissing my hair, "I had no idea that it was so hard"

"Well now you know" I say softly, "Oh, Francis, isn't she beautiful?"

My daughter – no, our daughter – has beautiful eyes, bright blue. Not my eyes, not Francis'.

"She has my mother's eyes" I whisper, "Oh, I'm so glad she has my mother's eyes"

Those blue eyes will one day entrance a thousand men, I know it. She has Francis' hair, glossy chestnut curls that will one day fall gracefully down her back and shimmer in the sunlight. She's going to be more beautiful that she is now, though that is hard to believe.

Francis holds her next, and the two of us gaze down at her. Tears suddenly roll down my cheeks.

"Alice, what is it? Why are you weeping, she's the most heavenly child anyone could have ever had" Francis asks anxiously.

"But this means that we have only one week left" I sob, "Oh, I love her, and she has made me so happy, my own daughter...but it means that we have only one week left. She must be christened a week from today and then you will be gone"


	29. Goodbyes

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long, this is the last chapter! Well, there's still the epilogue, but this is the last actual chapter. Not that the epilogue isn't an actual chapter..now I'm rambling. Basically, there are only two chapters left including this one. Sorry! And I had no reviews for the last chapter, which made me sad. So please review this one! George and Elizabeth in Heaven scenes are in italics. This is going to be a looonnnngggg chapter...**

"_George..." Elizabeth came towards her lover, who was watching their two youngest children and their spouses ride towards the little manor house where Alice would be living out the rest of her days. She looked sheepish, almost, and extremely frightened. George sighed._

"_Oh dear, why do you look so anxious? What has Lisbeth done this time? I swear, you couldn't have conceived a more unruly girl if you had tried"_

"_Lisbeth? No, no, she hasn't done anything! It's about me, actually"_

_George frowned, gesturing for her to sit beside him, "What is it? You cannot be with child if we're...well, dead. So what can it be to make you fret so?"_

_Elizabeth reached across to take his hands between her own, "Mary said that you used to watch me all the time, when I was still alive"_

"_I did" George agreed, "Well, most of the time. Sometimes my dear sister did drag me away from you. And of course I spent a lot of time with Lisbeth, raising her as our own"_

"_Yes, I thought you must have" Elizabeth chewed worriedly on her lip, "But there is something that I think you must have missed..."_

"_Is there?"_

"_Yes. Do you remember Charles, your prison guard? He died yesterday"_

"_Did he? I must seek him out, he was a dear fellow. But you are wrong. I did see you, that time, when he tried to...violate you. And you rejected him"_

"_Yes..." Elizabeth mumbled, "But there was another time"_

_George froze, "What?"_

"_He came to see the baby – George, I mean – when he was four months old. And...he tried to kiss me again. I said no, I did...but he said he did not care whether I called him George, he did not care whether I even desired him particularly. He said that he wanted me and that it was my decision entirely. But then he kissed me again. And that time...I surrendered, George, I did, but I pretended he was you. He left straight afterwards, because it seemed that he did mind me whispering your name. And I have regretted it unbearably for all the rest of my life, I have repented for so long, and I have lied to you. But now I am telling you the truth. Alice's affair with Francis has brought my own guilt back to me and I had to...tell you"_

_George stared at her for a long time. Then he got up and walked away._

* * *

My sister, brother, Elena and Eric came cantering up the drive a week after my daughter's birth. I have named her Elizabeth-Anne, the Elizabeth being for both my mother and my Queen, and the Anne being for my enchanting aunt, but Francis and I have already adopted the habit of shortening her name to Beth-Anne. Today is to be my daughter's christening.

Elizabeth, my beloved cousin and Queen, is her first godmother, but Margaret is standing in as her proxy for the ceremony. Eve is to be her second godmother, and burst into tears when I asked her just yesterday. My dearest love Francis is to be her godfather as well as her real father. It is our last day together.

Aurora flies away from our little crowd towards her parents. Elena gasps and kisses her daughter's rosebud lips fiercely.

"Oh, my darling girl, haven't you grown!" she exclaims in delight. Aurora moves on to fling her arms around my brother, her father. George bows and kisses her hand and she laughs loudly, embracing him instead.

Margaret and Eric come to greet us, both of them making a brave show of fussing over my little girl and my adorable son, though Meg looks a little teary. We hug tightly.

"God, Alice, I missed you so much" Meg whispers tearfully, "Just when I needed you, that bitch Catherine took you away from me"

"It's going to be alright" I soothe her gently, "I'm here now, it's going to be alright"

Elena, her arm linked with her daughter's, kisses me on both cheeks and declares that she has never been happier than for us all to be together, with our children. My brother's arms are the ones I crave the most, and we embrace for so long that the others leave us and allow Francis (along with a very shy Eve) to lead them inside. George admires my daughter.

"She is a jewel" he smiles, "You have done so well. And she has Mama's eyes"

"She does" I let my eyes feast on him, "Oh, I have never been so glad to see my frivolous baby brother in all my life"

George stroked my dark curls soothingly, "I know that today will be hard for you. I am just glad that I can be here to comfort you"

"As am I, my darling brother, as am I"

* * *

The christening goes by without a hitch. I have lent Eve one of my gowns and a new ruff that I had made just before I was banished, and she looks ever so pretty. Although at first Meg was inclined to treat her with contempt, out of jealousy, I believe, she was soon arranging Eve's hair in what she tells me is the new court fashion. Elena also chipped in, dabbing powders and oils on Eve's face, which was long ago scarred by the pox, so that she could pass for a true court lady.

Meg, as Elizabeth's proxy, has decided to dress as grandly as if she were royalty born and bred, which, she points out, we practically are. Her ruff is so wide that I had fears that she would not fit through the chapel door. Luckily, this was unfounded. She also wears a magnificently hooped cloth of gold gown, and some jewels that Elizabeth gave her upon her wedding. Aside from the turn in her head and the flirt in her smile, traits that are very much from our Mama, she could be the Queen herself.

There are a lot of tears at the ceremony. Margaret cries, though I think it is for her own lost child rather than the confirmation of mine. I weep, for I know that this will be the last big event that my lover and I will share. Francis cries, looking from George to Beth-Anne to me. I know that he will be devastated to lose this new family that we have created for ourselves.

We head back into the house, where we while away time with dinner and a card game that we patiently teach Aurora and little George. Then George looks at me and says the words that I least want to hear;

"Alice, we have to leave".

I say goodbye to my siblings and siblings-in-law first, knowing that I will see them again soon. George whispers to me that I must do as our Mama did and be strong for my children. I do not care to remind him that in the nine months after Papa's death, until the day he was born, she did nothing but gaze out of the window and weep.

They leave Francis and I to take our goodbyes. He says goodbye to a sobbing George and to our blissfully clueless babe, and then we are left alone.

"I love you so much" Francis whispers, cupping my already tear-stained face in his hands, "I'm going to do everything I can, Alice. I'll write to you, if I can find a messenger discreet enough, and I shall send some money when I have some spare for the children. And maybe, God willing, Catherine will decide that she wants a divorce"

"Catherine will never divorce you" I sob, "She knows that it will make you happy"

"I love you" Francis repeats firmly, "You have made me so happy, happier even than I was in those early days with Catherine. You have enchanted me"

"Stop it" I hiss fearfully, shivers racing up and down my spine, "This sounds like a conversation Henry would have had with Aunt Anne. I can't listen to you speak like that. I'm only you're whore"

"No!" says Francis fiercely, "You are so, so , so much more than a whore. You have whored with me, yes, we will not deny it, but out of love. Calling yourself such a thing would be the same as calling your mother one, for she did the same. And you would never do that, would you?"

"No" I mumble, shaking my head, "Never"

"Exactly" he sounds and looks triumphant, making me smile.

"I love you too" I say, "I do. I don't care that I can never come to court again, because I have had you and you have made me happy. You may have been the reason for my exile, but you have given me the two most beautiful children in the world to spend such a time with. And you have given me the most precious, irreplaceable memories"

He kisses me then, passionately, hungrily, and the kiss tastes salty, tastes of our tears. We cannot let go, though we know that we must.

"I wish I could have you one last time" says Francis with a grin, "Sorry to ruin the moment"

I laugh, "You didn't. You made it better"

We kiss one last time.

And then he leaves.

We will not see each other again.

* * *

That night my mother's ghost appears to me.

It is only the second time that this has happened. I am sitting by the dying embers of the fire, my eyes swollen from weeping, my skirt damp with the droplets that have fallen from them. Then she stands, in front of the flames. She smiles feebly.

"Did you see Meg? After she lost her child?" I ask, rubbing my eyes. Mama nods forlornly.

_My poor, darling babe, _I hear her say to me, _My beloved girl. My eldest._

"Oh, Mama" I whimper, and begin to weep again. I feel her arms around me in that long-lost yet familiar hold, though I can feel only the pressure and not her warmth, nor can I smell her scent.

_Neither of us have had a good day, I think_, she says ruefully. I pull away to look at her and at once she has glided back to the flames.

"Did you argue with Papa?" I ask. She nods. Then she smiles suddenly.

_I have not had a chance to tell you before. Your children are beautiful._

"They are" I agree, smiling back.

_Thank you for naming her Elizabeth. She has my eyes._

"She will be a heartbreaker" I say. I can hear Mama's laugh in my head, as I remember it, the pealing of bells.

_Be strong, Alice, _she says gently, _You were always stronger than I. You take after your father._

"I take after you too, Mama" I grin at her, "We're both whores for the men we love"

Mama grins back, _That we are. Goodbye, my dear girl._

She is gone.

I rub my eyes again, and I rise from my seat. I look into the mirror and I smile. It's more of a grimace, for now, but one day soon I will smile again. Maybe my daughter will smile or laugh for the first time. Maybe George will learn a new song on the lute or be taught how to ride a horse. Maybe Eve will stumble over the doorstep again (last time I laughed until I cried). But something, sometime soon, will make me smile.

And that smile will be for my parents. For my Aunts. For my children, my siblings. For the love of my life who is no longer in my life.

For everyone but me.

* * *

_When Elizabeth arrived back from visiting her daughter, George was waiting by the mirror from which she had entered. She smiled at him._

"_I – "_

"_I came to say sorry" George interrupted, "I understand why you lay with Charles. You were alone and desolate and he desired you as no-one else had been able to since my death. You longed for me, as I did for you. I love you, my darling, and I understand"_

_Elizabeth rushed into his embrace, and they kissed, "Marry me, Elizabeth" George whispered into her ear, "Marry me now, as we could not on earth"_

"_Can we marry here?" Elizabeth gasped. George shrugged._

"_I can't see why not. Lisbeth and Francis did. So, will you?"_

"_Oh, George! Yes!" Elizabeth cried, "Yes, of course I will, my only love!"_

_Their embrace became rather more fervent; Elizabeth's skirts had been raised to an indecent height when Anne and Harry Percy appeared._

"_Oh, sorry to interrupt!" Anne snickered, meaning that she was not sorry at all. Elizabeth and George pulled away from each other and glared at her._

"_Don't look so sour. You have all eternity for that. Just to remind you that Harry and I will be performing our nuptials tomorrow. We've invited Wolsey...isn't that jolly good fun? And Henry. Oh, it shall be such a vengeful occasion. Hardly like a wedding at all, really"_

_George looked at Harry, "How do you put up with her?"_

_Harry grinned, " I have a lot of patience"_

_They all laughed. Elizabeth grinned at Anne._

"_Mind if we join you? A double wedding has always seemed rather romantic"_

_Anne squealed, a rare thing from her, "Oh, yes! Congratulation, darlings"_

"_I wondered when you two would get married!" Mary exclaimed, appearing arm in arm with William, "Now that this whole sorry business with our offspring has been sorted, I am very pleased for you both"_

_The three women and friends embraced, and soon Aurora had joined in. And there they were once again, the glittering Boleyn and Ferrers quartet, as stunning and happy as they had once been at court._

_Elizabeth moved back to George and lay her head on his shoulder as he held her, pulling in their dead daughter who had suddenly arrived. _

"_They interrupted us" George whispered in his lover's ear._

"_Don't fret, I shall make it up to you later" Elizabeth whispered back, "Anyway, like Anne said – we have all eternity for that"_

**A/N 2: So this is the end...until the epilogue, though these were the last ever Heaven scenes. I really hope you liked it, I put a LOT into this chapter, so PLEASE REVIEW, I WILL LOVE YOU ALL FOREVER...actually I already do love you for reading this...BUT I WILL LOVE YOU EVEN MORE! Thank you xxxxx**


	30. Epilogue

**A/N:READ THIS! It's the last ever chapter! I'm quite depressed by this...but there will be a nice ending. The beautiful Royal Wedding (it made me proud to be British!) put me in a very romantic mood, which led to this...PLEASE REVIEW! It would make me so happy **

FIVE YEARS LATER

"George! Who on earth could have taught you such a song?" I exclaim. Listening to my son's music practice has never bought on such blushes before. My little girl sits beside me, looking extremely bemused by the words that she has not heard before. Eve is the only one of us who is chortling away -being a country girl she was bought up with bawdy songs.

"Cousin Aurora, when she came back from court last week" says George, looking confused, "She says everyone sings it"

"Don't pay too much heed to your cousin Aurora in the future, my sweetheart. She does like to joke with you" I can't help giving a little smile at this flash of temperament from my absent niece, so similar to something her father would do.

We hear all of a sudden the galloping of hooves outside, which makes Beth-Anne jump. She is a very shy little girl, with none of the carefree spunk of her grandparents - yet. But I am sure that such qualities will present themselves, in time. After all, she is only six years old.

"Who could that be?" asks Eve, "Did your brother or sister say that they were visiting?"

"No..but I am due a message from the Queen. Do go and see, Eve"

As Eve exits the room, two young boys come tumbling down the stairs. One is four years old and the other three – Charles and Thomas, my sister Margaret's children. They stay here with me, but Margaret and Eric come often to visit them, these miracle children. We did not think that my sister would be able to have children at all, after her unfortunate miscarriage – but then came the two boys, hot on each other's heels, and we were all so pleased.

Charles and Thomas come crashing in with their usual childish exuberance.

"Who is that at that door, Aunt?" asked Charles eagerly, his bright copper locks looking wild and far too long. But Margaret could not bear to let them be cut.

"Come sit with us. We shall soon find out. It is probably just a messenger"

"Alice!" Eve calls loudly from the hallway, her voice quavering and trembling, "Alice, do come here!"

I frown, rising from my seat. I begin to panic. In her last letter Elizabeth had informed me that she was not feeling well, and the tremor in Eve's voice could signify that the worst had happened, and my beloved cousin and Queen is dead!

"Stay here" I order the four children. Beth-Anne reluctantly lets go of my hand, her blue eyes wide and thoughtful. I rush out into the hallway.

"Oh, Eve, is it the Qu-" I freeze, my words being cutting off abruptly by my own surprise. A man stands in the doorway. A tall, lean, handsome man with chestnut curls and molten brown eyes. A man that I have not seen for five years.

I open my mouth, but cannot speak. He laughs.

"Oh, Alice. You haven't changed a bit. You're as beautiful as ever"

"Francis" I breathe. Eve scuttles away to leave us in privacy. He comes in, shutting the door behind him.

"I hope you don't mind my being here – "

"Of course I do! We will get into such trouble if we are discovered – it's treason for you to be here, if the Queen ordered us to be kept apart! It's treason!" I cry, horrified. Francis chuckles again, a sound I remember so well.

"It is not treason anymore"

I gasp, "Then Elizabeth _is _dead!"

"God Heavens, no! No, I saw her just this morn, and she was as well and as glorious as she has always been"

"Oh, thank our holy father!" I sigh with relief, trying to still my fluttering heart. Francis reaches towards me and grasps my hands between his own. His touch, once long forgotten, is now so familiar to me that I have to stifle another gasp.

"It is treason no longer because my wife is dead" he says gently, "Her Majesty knows that I am here"

"Catherine is dead?" I exclaim, "Oh, my poor cousin. I do wish we had been reacquainted before such an unhappy event"

"She would never have forgiven you even had you tried. She never forgave me. She went to her deathbed cursing the day I was born and broke her heart"

"I am sorry for it. I have pleaded for forgiveness so many times"

"Then you regret what we had?"

"No, of course not!" I cry in protest, "Why do you ask?"

"Because we can be together now, my love. I can come and live with you, here, for the rest of our days. Elizabeth has given her permission and her blessing. I can even make you my wife"

I snatch my hands away, "No! I mean, I want you to stay, of course I do...I want you to live here with my for the rest of our lives. But I don't want to marry you" I smile wryly, "In a twist of what both the great Queen Elizabeth Woodville and my own Aunt Anne said to their suitors, Your mistress I can be, but your wife I shall not be!"

Francis looks confused, "Why not? I cannot say that I understand"

"Because my husband Pierre divorced me three years ago in the most public ceremony I have ever known – I assume you remember – and since then I have had the name of my childhood, which was the names of both my parents combined : Alice Anne Boleyn-Hollington. And I would not lose that name, now that I have regained it, for the world"

Francis smiles, " I understand now" he says gently. He pulls me to him, quite suddenly, and kisses me on my lips. It has been such a long time since we have had this, since I have had his touch like this, yet it feels like only yesterday. When we move apart, I am still cradled in his arms.

"Would you like to see your son and daughter again?" I ask him softly, "They are the most perfect children"

Francis nods, "I would give anything to see them once again"

I smile, "George! Beth-Anne! Do come out here!" I call.

George comes out first, my beloved son. He is ten years old now, with my dark Boleyn eyes sparkling in his pale face that is already beginning to look chiselled and adult, and Francis' chestnut curls cut short. He wears breeches now too, though the rest of his clothing is rather out of fashion. Behind him comes Beth-Anne, holding tight to his hand. Her own chestnut curls have grown ever so long, and fall in rolling, glossy waves down her back already. And even though her clear blue eyes are always cautious, they are still beautiful.

Francis stares at them, speechless.

"Who is this man, Mama?" asks George haughtily. He comes to stand by my side as though he is protecting me, "Does he mean to cause us harm?"

"No, no, my darling, of course not!" I laugh, "Do you not recognise him?"

"He does look a little familiar" says George at last, his face softening as he thinks. Beth-Anne stares up at Francis.

"We have the same hair" she says in her soft, delicate voice, before George can remark upon anything. My son's face lights up at her words.

"You're our Papa!" he cries, "You came to stay before Beth-Anne was here!"

Francis smiles at him and crouches down to their level, "Yes, I am your Papa. And I have come here to live with both of you and your Mama"

George flings his arms around Francis at once. But Beth-Anne hangs back, constantly wary. I go towards her, put my arms around her.

"Beth-Anne, my dearest...your Papa has been waiting such a long time to see you and to give you a hug"

She looks between Francis and I, then follows her brother with a pretty smile, tumbling to Francis' arms.

When they let go of him, and Francis stands, he reaches straight for me.

"I love you" he whispers, "I never stopped loving you"

"Oh, Francis" I sigh, almost faint with happiness, "I thought I would never get you back"


	31. READ THIS!

This is just for all of my readers, to say thank you so much. So please read it! Just because it's an author's note doesn't mean it's not important!

Big, big thanks to Nancy Sikes, who reviews faithfully and always makes me laugh with her enthusiasm, Lady Eleanor Boleyn, who has read both stories and become a good friend (look out for our joint Tudor story, coming soon!) and Shout in a Whisper, who is still a great friend of mine despite her not being able to review so much now she is at college.

Massive thanks also to ObviouslyADreamer, XDraco and HermioneX, Alice B. Cahill, AlexieBelle, Lil J Girl Forever, FactualLife, Phanizy and ILoveThee, for their reviews. Reviews absolutely make my day and keep me happy when I'm down. Thank you so, so much for that.

I'm depressed that this is over, but I will not be writing another sequel. However, if you haven't already, you can get your fix by reading my story Behind The Scenes: An Affair of the Heart. It's full of moments that didn't make it into An Affair of the Heart, but now I will be adding ones from this story too. It would be awesome if you would all transfer your wonderful reviews onto that now!

Thank you everyone!

GreenField

xxxxxx


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